The Inheritance of Orquídea Divina

by Zoraida Córdova

Orquídea fell in love with Bolívar Londoño the way the sea falls in love with a storm.

“Boss wants to see you.” Orquídea might have been born unlucky, born poor, born a bastard, but she was not born to take orders. Not anymore. She raised her head high and imagined her entire body was made of iron, of steel. “There’s a poster with my face on it. Tell him to start there.”

You could be born into a family, but you still had to choose them.

Some people change over time, water wearing stones smooth. Others require the violent clap of lightning that turns sand into glass.