Alternate parts from the prologue (New book)

Now Milagros was responsible for the real estate. She had permission to do anything she wanted. To give orders. To come and go, as well as to buy or sell whatever she pleased, only by her orders. Rightful and striving. Short, large hips, dark skinned and always looking suspicious. Milagros. Who could tell where she had come from?

Jose also still worked there and, together with Milagros, he made everything work out, nevertheless. The two servants were there since the beginning. They came together. Both were still very young, but time and the wind carved their faces with fury and their skin became rough in that strange color.

Wearing striped pants and always smaller than his size, yellowed shirts and suspenders, Jose was not good-looking. He overdid every time he did or said anything.

Those funny figures, full of unusual gestures, which diverted whomever neared them. Both, fully serving and trustworthy, moreover at this time of total isolation and so many sparks.

"...Mea culpa ...mea culpa... fiat voluntas tua..." (My fault... my fault... Thy will be made), murmured Milagros, beating her chest with her hand, praying for forgiveness.

"See? There's nothing there... I can't hear anything... You can't hear anything...", whispered Jose, frowning.

"I can hear it, can't you? This jewelry box has stopped working. Why am I the only one who can hear it?", asked Milagros.

"Because you're crazy! Let's get out of here!"

Unmoving and without knowing what to do, Jose freaked out when Milagros came into the room, clumsily, pale and speechless.

Finally, among so many life mysteries, one of them she had been able to find out.