People say that’s what happiness is—when you don’t feel like you should be somewhere else, or someone else. A different person. Someone younger, older. Someone better. It’s a perfect and impossible idea, but still, during all those years, Carla generally wanted to be exactly where she was. Gonzalo too. And Vicente too; Vicente especially wanted to be exactly where he was, except on the weekends he spent with his father, when he missed his room, his house, his family.
