Oh, did I forget to mention that? Her name’s Julieta. She turned ten recently. My family looks after her. Every month I deposit money in their account for expenses and special treats, and I’ve also bought them an SUV and a house in a nice neighborhood. If I get killed—they say there are two things you can count on around here: prison and death—my mom is set for life, and so is my Julieta. I’ve gone barefoot, lived on scraps, and worn secondhand clothes—I don’t want my little girl to go through that. The pay here’s good, and you get used to killing. I’ve got no qualms about my job, and that’s
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