Page 79 of Forbidden Fate

I hear no shame in her voice. Of course, I don’t hear pride either. I don’t know what to say, so I simply nod.

Esmeralda rests her chin on her hand. “My story is the opposite.”

Mercedes groans. “Hers is sadder.”

“It’s not sadder. It has a better ending.”

“That depends on how you define ending.”

“Alive and well-paid is a good ending.”

Señora reaches across the table and pats Esmeralda’s hand.

“What happened?” I ask.

Esmeralda looks at me over her coffee. “I was orphaned young. Very young. I barely remember my mother.” She shifts her gaze. “And I remember more about the orphanage than I want to.”

Mercedes stops playing with the tie of her robe. Though she knows this story, clearly she feels Esmeralda deserves her attention.

“The woman who ran it was cruel,” Esmeralda continues. “Not the kind of cruel that leaves bruises every day. The smarter kind. Hungry children. Cold baths. Locked doors. That sort of thing.”

“I’m so sorry,” I say.

“Water under the bridge,” she says. “I escaped when I was fifteen.”

Fifteen.

A child.

I glance at Cruz.

His face has hardened.

“I had nowhere to go,” Esmeralda says. “No money. No family. No plan beyond not going back. Señora found me trying to sleep behind the bakery two streets away.”

Señora Valentina sniffs. “You were terrible at hiding.”

“I was hungry.”

“You were also rude.”

“I was fifteen.”

“That’s not an excuse for being rude to the woman offering you bread.”

Esmeralda smiles, and the love in it is unmistakable. “She brought me here.”

“To work?” I ask before I can stop myself.

“Not to work,” Señora snaps. “She was a child.”

“I didn’t mean⁠—”

“I know what you meant,” Señora Valentina says, softening only slightly. “But no. She stayed here. Ate here. Slept here. Helped with cleaning and laundry when she wanted spending money. Nothing else.”

Esmeralda nods. “When I was old enough, she told me I could stay and work if I wanted. Or I could leave and she would help me find something else.”

“And you stayed,” I say.