The Hacienda

by Isabel Cañas

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

I sacrificed that dream because survival was more important than being lonely.

“I need to pray about this,” I said to the fire. “Prayers are empty talk.” I flinched at the acidity in Paloma’s voice. She stood sharply, her jaw set fiercely as she tightened her shawl around her shoulders. “She needs help.”