Mateo, I still have your photograph on the wall. The one from your baptism. You were three months old, asleep in the white gown your grandmother sewed. You looked like an angel. I didn't believe in angels before you. I don't know if I believe in them now. People visit the house. They see the photograph. No one asks about it. I haven't decided if that's worse than if they did. Your sisters don't ask anymore. Ana remembers you. Lucia does not. She will grow up knowing your name but not your voi...

Mateo, I still have your photograph on the wall. The one from your baptism. You were three months old, asleep in the white gown your grandmother sewed. You looked like an angel. I didn't believe in angels before you. I don't know if I believe in them now. People visit the house. They see the photograph. No one asks about it. I haven't decided if that's worse than if they did. Your sisters don't ask anymore. Ana remembers you. Lucia does not. She will grow up knowing your name but not your voi...