Camila Madrigal Novels & Stories

-I said frowning in her direction. -No. I don't have a kind of double life or something like that. What could I hide? That I am a stripper? - Camila asked laughing. I shrugged, entering her game. Camila smiled cynically. -You are in the wrong story, Jauregui. I'm Karla Camila Collins. -I know that very well now. -You do? - Camila inched closer. -I do. I just can't understand what you want from me. - I spoke seriously, trying to keep the last thread of sanity I had left.

"Uhm…" "Of course she can, Abigail!" Mrs. Alcantara answered for me. "In fact, Camila here used to serenade the whole class in my subjects when she was in first year. She has a very good voice, and I swear, she sounds angelic when she sings." Abigail smiled, completely finding hope. "Why didn't you tell us that you actually sing!"

She had been doing well at moving forward. Camila knew that. That was exactly why she had sent this. Helena picked up her phone and called Cassidy. Cassidy picked up on the second ring. "Hey. What is wrong." "Why do you assume something is wrong," Helena said. "Because you have a voice and I know it," Cassidy said. "Talk." "Camila sent me a message," Helena said. Silence. "She sent me pictures," Helena continued. "Of her and Damian. Happy pictures. And then a message saying she was sorry for the pain that was caused and she wished me well."

The call lasted two hours. Elena sat cross-legged on her sofa and listened to her mother’s voice fill the apartment — hesitant at first, then steadier, the way rivers run tentative at their source and wider as they go. Camila Reyes spoke carefully, as a woman who had rehearsed nothing because no rehearsal could have prepared her. She said: I watched you from photographs your grandfather sent twice a year. I know about the piano you gave up in secondary school.

Pedro asked again, making Camila pause for a moment. "Both of my parents have passed away, and I don't have any siblings. The only relative who still acknowledges me is my mother's sister who happens to be married to someone in California," said Camila, making Pedro nod in understanding of what Camila explained. They then fell silent again, continuing their meals, making Camila feel that Pedro's purpose for inviting her to lunch was definitely not to ask about her departure to California. This emboldened her to put down her utensils and look at Pedro.

Theodore yawned in boredom of our conversation. “Such a child. My last name is Castor.” He was mocking her now. She was not amused either. “Hump…” Jamira turned her head at him. “My last name is Di Maria.” Theodore laugh. “So wait…. Hahahahaha … you’re telling us your name is Jamira Di Maria! Hahahahaha! What a name for a demon!!!” I looked at him dumbfounded by his laughter. Why was it so funny? I did not see why her name was ironic.

“Yes, like Dario used me and Andrés used Catalina. It fucking sucks, Dante, but that’s the world we live in. Dario and Catalina are doing well. So are Aléjandro and I. Camila will adjust. She won’t even need to leave the world and culture she knows. Besides, Rei’s a good man.” Inhaling, my chest felt tight. “Fuck that. I’m sick of people singing his praises.” My voice rose. “You of all people. I thought you’d see my side in this—Camila’s side.” “Me, who has been married off twice in her life?”