Madrid
He touches my forehead, and it scares me as his hand seems to burn my skin, I pull away, looks straight ahead.
— So... What... What is this stone? — I ask, stuttering, looking at that huge boulder in front of us, and trying not to think about the tension that wants to seize me. Raúl seems to want to provoke me, and he puts his arm on the back of my seat.
— They call it the Witches' Stone. It is one of the few vestiges of the Ice Age.
— Why do you have that name? You said there was a story about her...
Sikat na Kabanata