« No, » he murmured. « Not God. Me. »
Clara approached, annoyed and confused.
—Alejandro, can you tell me what’s going on? The investors are about to arrive and you’re putting on a show with a complete stranger.
He turned around so quickly that even she froze.
—You are the unknown one in this story, Clara.
The phrase cut through the air.
The old woman looked at the two of them, uncomfortably.
« I don’t want any trouble, sir. I already said what I had to say, unintentionally. If you let me go, I’ll leave. »
« She’s not leaving, » Alejandro replied. « Not until she tells me her name. »
She hesitated.
—My name is Teresa.
His expression broke.
—Teresa… —he repeated, as if confirming a miracle and a condemnation at the same time—. Teresa of the river.
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