“Do you remember when I told you that a painting takes a little bit of your heart?” Uncle Alfonso asked. Rosa nodded. “Well, you are young and strong and your heart grows by leaps and bounds. But when you get older, it takes longer. Such a large illumination takes a large piece of your heart, and it does not grow back so easily. If you do too many, too quickly, you will find yourself with only a tired sliver left, and then you’re in trouble.” “Will you die?” whispered Rosa, horrified. Grandmama snorted. “No,” she said, “but you will lie around and mope and pick at your food for days, until
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