The Hacienda

by Isabel Cañas

It is said that mortal life is empty without the love of God. That the ache of loneliness’s wounds is assuaged by obedience to Him, for in serving God we encounter perfect love and are made whole.

Fate had been unkind to me, but sometimes, its pettiness worked in my favor.

I was a body without a voice, a shadow melting into the walls of a too-crowded house.

Our relationship was founded on one thing and one thing only: my world was a dark, windowless room, and he was a door.

She knew this house. She knew it was like this. And she sent me into the dark anyway.

“That means you’re trapped in San Isidro, just like the rest of us. And you’ll die here like the rest of us.”

Words can damn or bless in equal measure, and are never to be used lightly.