Chapter 2 - The House Built on Sacrifice
I live in a modest, two-story house in a working-class neighborhood in the State of Mexico. It is not a luxurious place, but it is deeply cherished. It is the kind of house that smells of damp earth and wet cement when the heavy summer rains fall, a scent that always brings back memories of my youth.
My late husband and I built this house brick by painful brick. We poured our sweat, our meager savings, and our greatest efforts into its foundation, hoping to create a safe haven for our lineage.
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Today, I share this hard-won roof with my son, Carlos, his wife, Valeria, and my two beautiful, innocent grandsons: Mateo, who is seven years old, and little Leo, who is just shy of his fifth birthday.
There is another soul who shares our space: Capitán, a large, noble mixed-breed dog. Carlos rescued him from the unforgiving streets years ago when he was just a malnourished pup. Capitán is a good, loyal animal. He eats a lot, his thick tail thumping against the floor whenever someone approaches, but he guards the house with a fierce dedication. We were supposed to be a family, living safely within these brick walls.
