#oc: javier ruiz ortega

[parjiljehavey]

When Mother and Father had told Javier that he was in charge of his siblings, he’d thought it’d be easy. Marisol was still a cub and Carlos was a fledgling. Toss a human at Carlos and supervise Marisol so she didn’t overeat and then send them to bed. 

Javier thought it would be easy. 

It wasn’t easy. 

Marisol wouldn’t stop crying because she was teething. Again. The only thing that made her stop was letting her chew on some poor bastard. More often than not it was Javier’s ankle or hand.

Carlos was being a picky eater. Javier had known this before, but goddamn. He hadn’t wanted what Javier had dragged in, so after turning that one loose, Javier had to strap Marisol to his chest after she had finally gone to sleep and take Carlos out to find what he wanted to eat. 

Javier was just happy that once Carlos found what he wanted, he had no problem sharing with Marisol. 

Their parents found them in the foyer. Javier staring at the ceiling while Marisol broke in her teeth on Javier’s ankles and Carlos slept in front of the door.

[parjiljehavey]

Javier after a feast

Fox loaf

[parjiljehavey]

Rains of Andalusia

A rewrite of these two pieces, just to see how much I’ve improved my writing. Also, I apologize if my spanish is incorrect, I do not speak it and thus used a translator.

Trigger Warnings: Child endangerment, murder, fratricide, gore, horror

@ninjacat1515 (Eliza belongs to her) @piratesangel @cheshire0824 (Maria Salazar belongs to her)

Javier took in his sister and her protective posture near the side of the little abomination’s cradle. She had dropped the facade, all claws, and onyx eyes. He snorted and reclined back against the room’s chaise. A nursery for the younger members of the Salazar family; mostly those who had been in the cradle. 

“Were it not for our parents' great love and affection for you and your monster,” He inspected his claws and recalled, “I would have tossed it into the river the second it was born.” 

“Por el bien de la familia, sin dudas.” Marisol scoffed, turning around to soothe her daughter as the baby began to fuss. 

His face went blank at the dismissal she gave him. His own little sister, did she not know what he did for their familia? Javier stood up quickly, coming around to the cradle and peering into it with a fake smile and a coo, “Buenas Noches, little monster~” 

Esperanza stared up at her uncle with wide eyes. Not with the eyes of a pureblood, no, with the eyes of her mortal father. She sensed her uncle’s ill-feelings towards her and began to cry. 

Marisol snapped at her elder brother and shoved him away, “Stop it.” 

“Oh, my dear sweet little hermana,” Javier chortled and then sighed looking at the thing. “Everything I do is for the good of this family,” 

He looked at his sister’s face as the realization of his next action dawned on her. Javier grinned like a lunatic and swept the child up into his arms, blankets and all, making his way quickly to the open balcony. “It’s time you learned that!” He hollered over his shoulder. 

Marisol reacted like the crack of a whip, turning and pulling on her brother’s arms, shrieking and snarling at him. “Deja a mi bebé! That’s my baby, give me my baby!” 

She grasped the collar of Javier’s jacket, only to be forced to let go when he dangled Esperanza over the ledge, holding her only from underneath her little arms. “No, no, no! Javier, por favor, te lo ruego, ¡no!” 

Javier roared with laughter at the demon’s wails and the shrill sound of his sister’s voice. If he let go, the abomination would plunge into the courtyard below, splatter against the flagstones and his familia would be rid of the blight on their reputation. 

He chuckled and asked, “Do you want to go for a little flight, Esperanza?” 

Marisol screamed and reached desperately for her daughter as Javier made to let go of the infant, stopping only when he heard the enraged roar of Carlos and the Capitan. 

“JAVIER!” Carlos had lept onto a pillar and was climbing up it rapidly, hissing and spitting. 

The eldest child just smirked as his sister reclaimed her child and fled from the room, weeping as she tried to soothe the abomination of her womb. All that was left in Javier’s hands was the blankets, and he let those fall to the ground as Carlos came upon him and pinned him to the wall with blazing eyes. 

“Are you insane!?” Carlos bellowed, shaking Javier violently. 

Javier simply grinned again and shifted into his other form, forcing his brother to drop him and scampered out of the room and ultimately the house. 

Carlos snarled and looked around. He looked down at the shocked faces of his parents, the Salazars, and the crew of the Silent Mary. He could hear his sister crying. Carlos turned on his heel and ran down the hall after her. 

Carlos found his sister taking shelter in the chambers given to her. Esperanza was asleep in the cradle, gently swung by her mother. He came to stand on the opposite side as Marisol looked at him with such grief in her eyes, something he had not seen since their brother Juan never returned from the New World. 

“Tell me about liquid silver,” Marisol demanded. 

He looked at his sister in shock and with a new light. This was the mother. This was anger. This was a mother’s rage. Carlos looked around quickly ensuring they were alone, and leaned over the cradle, “It kills our kind. Faster than a stake or fire, with no hope of a reprieve.” 

It demanded blood, Carlos realized. What stirred inside his sweet sister was a demand for blood. Their brother’s blood. 

“You would break our father’s heart?” He whispered, “The love he bears for his unruly son is great.” Javier was the first-born and the first son, and would always hold a great place in their father’s heart just as Marisol and now Esperanza held places in their mother’s. Just as Marisol held a piece of Carlos’ own heart and he held a piece of hers. 

“Then love is blind.” More tears fell down her cheeks.

Carlos agreed. “Deaf and blind and dumb.” 

Esperanza stirred in her bed, stretching and smacking her lips as she roused. She stared up at her uncle. Carlos smiled, running a gentle finger across his niece’s cheek. Esperanza reached up and took his finger into her hand, gripping it tightly before drifting back to sleep. 

Marisol took his other hand in her’s, for support and strength. He was her rock as she was his. Carlos squeezed his sister’s hand and then let go to wipe away her tears. 

Her nose was red as her lips and her cheeks damp with tears when she said, “Then what can be done?” 

“Hearts may yet be broken Sol,” He tapped her nose as he did when she was Esperanza’s age, “But never yours, not so long I live and walk on God’s Earth.”

Marisol rarely came out of her rooms. She had taken to handling the accounts and the administration at her writing desk there, instead of in the study. Her mood was despairing, no matter that Javier hadn’t returned to the Ortega home after the party. 

It had been nearly two weeks. 

The Salazar matriarch, Maria, had taken a shining to Marisol and little Lancha. It was from her that they learned that Javier was lurking around the Salazar estate, trying to drain the Bruja they kept. 

Carlos, wanting to lift his sister’s spirits, sought out her lover, Andres. From what his mother had told him, Andres was an aspiring artist of great talent whose studio was down in the markets, past the square fountain. Carlos stepped out of the coach, looking around. The fountain was a block off to the right, so he began walking after placing his hat upon his head.

He found the studio after searching for an hour. It was easy enough to find by the sign that hung out front; a new addition from the looks of it. 

Andres De La Fuente the Artist

Carlos knocked on the door, deciding it to be better to seek permission to enter. A shout came from inside, declaring it would be a moment. When the door open, the smell of oil paint and charcoal wafted out. 

The man at the door was in his early thirties with reddish hair and the same eyes that Esperanza bore. He smiled and beckoned Carlos inside. 

“Welcome, welcome! How can I help you, Señor...?” He closed the door behind Carlos. 

The vampire looked around the studio, spotting a bed in the corner. All around were sketches of animals, foliage, people. The most prominent of faces was that of Marisol. Carlos counted fifty different depictions of her alone. 

“Ortega. My name is Oficial Carlos Ruiz del Aguilar y Ortega.” Carlos turned to look at Andres, “I need you to come with me.” 

Andres paused, recognizing the name of his love, his muse, and the mother of his daughter’s family. He knew what Marisol was, and what her familia was. He immediately thought the worst. 

“Did something happen to Mari? Is my Lancha ill?” Andres demanded, panic showing in his eyes. 

Carlos sighed, “No. Esperanza is well. My sister on the other hand,” He trailed off. 

Andres begged then, “Por favor, tell me. What has befallen mi amor?” 

And Carlos told him. He told Andres everything about what Javier had tried to do to Esperanza, of Marisol’s despairing mood since. Andres exploded in rage that Javier, the flesh, and blood of his beloved Marisol had tried to kill the creation they had made together, declaring he would kill Javier on sight if he saw him.

The instinct that Andres had to protect impressed Carlos greatly. 

“Andres, calm down, por favor. I need you to come with me to surprise Marisol and lift her spirits.” 

Andres nodded and quickly collected his coat and hat. “Si, si, si. Whatever it takes to ease her pain.” 

The artist locked the door behind them and pocketed the key.  He followed Carlos through the square and into the coach. The entire ride to the estate Andres talked on and on about her. Of her beauty, her kindness, her wit. How she bore the most beautiful baby he’d ever seen. And of how much he loved her and their daughter.

And Carlos found himself approving of the artist. He was of low birth but seeing how Marisol’s eye light up when Carlos led the artist into the study and how she laughed and smiled and how Andres treated Marisol and his daughter erased any doubts Carlos still had about him.

“Papa. Come on, Lancha. Say ‘papa’.” Andres was encouraging Esperanza to talk, to which she stubbornly refused with a laugh as she held her father’s hair in a fist. 

Marisol was giggling from where she sat with her lover and child in Teresa’s gardens. Teresa herself observed from the parlor windows with Carlos, both appraising and drinking wine.

“You did a good thing for her, Carlos,” Teresa said with a fond smile, eyes never leaving the trio enjoying a picnic outside. “I’m proud of you.”

The officer smiled. It eased the twinge in his heart that was there since that night to see his sister smile and laugh again. 

“Well, I must say he is rather attractive for a human,” Teresa commented.

Carlos was appalled. “You are a married woman, Mother!”

“Married I may be but that does not mean that I am blind, hijo!” 

Carlos shook his head and sat down on a settee. Teresa sighed, listening to the sounds of her daughter and granddaughter laughing.

“I had reservations about the boy, you know? When I first learned he had begotten my sweet Marisol with a child.” She sighed again, “I am so glad I was wrong. She is so happy and that’s all I’ve ever wanted for you, my children.” 

Carlos smiled at his mother. “And you did a fine job, Mama.” 

Unbeknownst to the family in the gardens and the pair in the parlor, a fox lurked in the shadows with a look of malice fixated on the artist. The Defiler; the mortal father of the abomination. 

The fox lurked throughout the night, having been chased off the Salazar’s estate. The Bruja was a child and El Capitan had gone soft. He had thought to return home, simpering for forgiveness until he could remove the little smudge against the Ortega name. 

But he had another idea now. He could remove the cause of it all. 

The artist was low born. A commoner. The fox never understood why his sister mingled with the mortals; they were designed to serve vampires, it was in their nature to be hunted. 

When the artist left in the coach later that night, the fox followed. It was after the coach left that the fox vanished and in its place stood Javier. He sniffed the air and caught the artist’s scent. Grinning madly, he began the hunt, circling around before the human could reach his home and be out of Javier’s reach. 

It was at the steps of the studio that Javier made himself known with a swift and brutal attack. Sharp, needle-like teeth tearing into flesh and blood spurting. The human gurgled, struggling in vain as he was killed. 

Javier detached and laughed. He dragged the corpse away from the studio and hid it in an alley. It would be discovered by tomorrow morning at the earliest. 

One down. Now only the little abomination to go. But first, Javier craved for something sweet. 

The fox appeared again and it darted off, heading to the Salazar home once again.

It was noon when Marisol made her rounds through the markets the next day. The nursemaid that followed her had Esperanza in her arms. The Dona greeted the merchants and their families, looking through their wares to see if something caught her interest. 

She was comparing fabric colors against Esperanza’s skin to make a dress when she caught the smell of death and heard a crowd people talking nearby. It was then that Carlos appeared by her side. 

Marisol gasped and turned to face her brother, “Carlo, you frightened me!” She laughed, “I smelled something and there is a crowd of people nearby.” 

Carlos thought quickly, “Sol, mother sent me to fetch you back for lunch.” 

“Oh, then we shall have to head home won’t we?” She made to take her normal route home, but Carlos stopped her. “What? What is it?” 

“I thought we could take the bridge home today, give us a change of scenery.” 

Her eyes bored into him. Scrutinizing. Why would Carlos want to take the bridge? It was the longest way back to the estate, he knew this. 

Carlos also knew that she saw through his lies and false reasons, as she always had. That was when a woman gasped and shouted, “That is Andres! Why would someone kill him?” 

Marisol picked up her skirts and ran towards the crowd, not heeding her brother’s bellow of her name. She was panting, tears blurring her vision as Andres’ scent and the smell of death hit her nose once she had pushed her way through. Carlos took hold of her arm and pleaded with her to not look. 

“You’d have to claw my eyes out.” She croaked, breaking free of him and taking a few steps forward only to collapse on top of the corpse, wailing. 

Carlos had turned and drawn his rapier, slashing at the crowd to drive them away. “Do you like the sight of her tears? Get away!” 

With the crowd forced back, Carlos returned his blade to its scabbard and went to tend to Marisol as she screamed in grief, cradling Andres’ cold body to her. Carlos knelt beside her and noticed the marks of a vampire’s bite. Javier’s bite. 

Controlling his rage took an extreme amount of will, but he succeeded. “This is not your fault, Sol.” 

“Of course it is!” She sobbed, “I took his love, I had his child.” 

It took some time to get Marisol to relinquish her hold on the body. As her heart broke as she held Andres’ drained corpse, Carlos’ heart broke with her. She was hysterical as the officials took the body away. Carlos held her to his side as he spoke with one of them. The Ortegas would handle the funeral. 

The sun was setting as they finally left the square. Marisol was in front of Carlos, sniffling. Carlos caught her when her knees weakened and gave out on her. He had to carry Marisol home, and he listened to her mumblings of grief. 

“I want to die, Brother.” “I want to be with Andres.” 

It pained him far greater than starving in the Triangle for thirty years had. He kissed her brow as they entered the estate, and called to the servants for warm water and a doctor and then for his mother. 

Teresa appeared with a crying Esperanza in her arms as Carlos climbed the staircase and walked briskly to his sister’s chambers. 

The rest of the evening and the next day passed by in a blur. The doctor had come and went, Marisol, laying despondently on her bed in the same place that Carlos had set her down in. 

Two days after the discovery of Andres’ body, Marisol slipped into dormancy. 

Esperanza was suffered without her mother and her father, crying day in and day out, only falling to sleep after exhausting herself. Teresa had taken over the care of her. 

What stirred in Marisol that night also now stirred in him. He had smelled Javier on the body. He knew the marks from Javier’s fangs well. Their sister’s heart was broken and she was in a dormant state because of Javier’s actions.

It was a week after Marisol’s dormancy began that Carlos finally learned where Javier had been hiding. With a silver dagger and a dark flask, Carlos set out into the night to corral his wayward brother. 

Javier was wondering in a daze when Carlos found him. There were healing burns on the eldest Ortega son’s face. The naval officer held the silver dagger in his gloved hand, hiding it in his coat. He beckoned to his brother, “Javier. Javier!” 

The vampire turned and grinned at his brother. “Carlos! Mi hermano!” He approached with open arms, spinning in a circle. “Isn’t it wonderful, brother? The trees, the stars!” 

Carlos did not answer, glowering impassively. 

“You can see everything, mi amigo! Birth, death. But the most wonderful this is..” Javier trailed off, reaching up to Carlos’ face. 

“There is no pain, here.” Javier held his brother’s face between his hands, gently. “Carlos, mi hermano, I have been in pain for centuries. And you, you... my brother. Puedo sentir tu sufrimiento.” Javier stepped closer to his younger sibling, “You are suffering, hermano, I can feel it.” 

Carlos’ expression remained hardened, “I am in pain, Javier. Sí, estoy sufriendo.” All because of you, he thought privately to himself. 

Marisol was dormant because of Andres’ murder. Esperanza was suffering without her mother or her mortal father. Mother grieved out of fear that her daughter would never awaken. Ale, Ben, and Joaquín were all silent in the house, too upset to play. Father sat in the study, staring into the fireplace, never moving and never blinking. Carlos watched all of this and felt like he was trapped in the Triangle again. 

Javier smiled and embraced Carlos warmly, “You would end your suffering, hermano?” 

This was the brother Carlos had grown up with. Warm and gentle to his familia. The eldest brother who had doted upon his sister and held her on a lofty pedestal. 

“Sí, I would. ” Carlos answered not returning the embrace, “And I would end that of my sister’s.” 

It wasn’t until the silver dagger had pierced his skin that Javier realized what was happening. He grunted as his face contorted, stumbling backward onto the dirt. 

Javier croaked, hand burning around the silver plunged into his belly, “What is this, Carlos? My brother.” 

Carlos revealed a dark flask containing liquid silver. He knelt down beside Javier, knocking aside his gasping brother���s hand and forcing his mouth open. He popped off the cap, and spat, “Only God grants forgiveness. I am an Ortega,” Carlos tilted the flask into Javier’s mouth, “We never forgive.” 

Javier shrieked as the silver poured into his mouth and down his throat. He thrashed and desperately tore at Carlos and then his own throat for several moments before falling silent, staring blankly at the dark clouds above. 

Carlos sighed, taking the dagger from the corpse of his brother and set about carving out the heart. After placing the heart into a sack, he set about making it appear as if slayers had killed Javier; placing a silver stake into the corpse’s chest cavity, wrapping the body in silver chains. 

The sun was rising after Carlos threw the body into the river. It wasn’t until the next day that Carlos returned to his family’s estate with the now embalmed heart hidden safely. 

A week later, Marisol emerged from her dormant state. Once she was left in peace with Esperanza, Carlos gave her the heart and only said, “The crime against you has been avenged, Sol.”

The night after Marisol woke from her dormancy, the bloated body of Javier Ortega was pulled out of the Manzanares. They all thought that slayers had done it, with liquid silver in Javier’s mouth, silver chains around his body and a silver stake in the place of his heart.

[parjiljehavey]

@ninjacat1515 @cheshire0824 (Maria Salazar belongs to @cheshire0824)

It demanded blood, Carlos realized. What stirred inside his sweet sister was a demand for blood. Their brother’s blood. “You would break our father’s heart? The love he bears for his unruly son is great.” Javier was the first-born and the first son, and would always hold a great place in their father’s heart just as Marisol and now Esperanza held places in their mother’s. 

“Then love is blind.” More tears fell down her cheeks. 

Carlos agreed. “Deaf and blind and dumb.” Esperanza stirred in her bed, stretching and smacking her lips in her sleep. Carlos smiled, running a gentle finger across his niece’s cheek. Marisol took his other hand in her’s, for support and strength. He was her rock as she was his. 

Her nose was red as her lips and her cheeks wet with tears when she said, “Then what can be done?” Carlos reached out and wiped away her tears. 

“Hearts may yet be broken Sis,” he tapped her nose with a finger as he did when she was a young child, “But not yours. Never yours, not so long I live and walk on this Earth.” 

Things were calm after that night. Javier had made himself scarce in the face of Maria Salazar’s visits to the family home. She had taken a shining to Esperanza and Marisol, remembering the fond memories of their respective children as babies with Teresa, and giving Marisol advice from one mother to another. But Marisol, she had slipped into a despairing mood that was unlike her. 

Carlos, wanting to lift his sister’s spirits, sought out her lover, Andres. From Marisol had told him Andres was an aspiring artist of great talent who lived down in the markets. Carlos found him and told him of Marisol’s despairing mood. Andres was hopelessly in love with Marisol, Carlos found. The entire ride to the estate he talked on and on about her. Of her beauty, her kindness, her wit. How she bore the most beautiful baby he’d ever seen. 

And Carlos found himself approving of the artist. He was of low birth but seeing how Marisol’s eye light up and how she laughed and smiled and how Andres treated Marisol and his daughter erased the doubts. 

“Papa. Come on, Lancha. Say ‘papa’.” Marisol was giggling from where she sat with her lover and child in Teresa’s gardens. Teresa observed from the second parlor windows with Carlos, both appraising and drinking wine. 

“Well, I must say he is rather attractive for a human,” Teresa commented. 

Carlos was appalled. “You are a married woman, Mother!” 

“Married I may be but that does not mean that I am blind, hijo!” Carlos shook and sat down on a settee. Teresa sighed, listening to the sounds of her daughter and granddaughter laughing. 

“I had reservations about the boy, you know? When I first learned he had begotten my sweet Marisol with a child.” She sighed again, “I am so glad I was wrong. She is so happy and that’s all I’ve ever wanted for you, my children.” Carlos smiled at his mother. 

“And you did a fine job, Mama.”

Unbeknownst to the family in the gardens, Javier lurked in the shadows with a look of malice fixated on the artist.

Carlos regretted those words the next morning. He had tried to get Marisol away from the markets. Had tried to take her through the square instead of the usual way home. But Marisol, she saw through his lies and false reasons, as she always had. She heard the workers behind them and as her heart broke as she held Andres’ drained corpse, Carlos’ heart broke with her. She was hysterical, and he drove the gathering crowd back with assistance from the Mary’s crew that had wandered by. 

He had to carry Marisol home when she fainted, and he listened to her mumblings of grief. “I want to die, Brother.” It pained him for greater than starving in the Triangle. He shushed her and called to the servants for warm water and then for his mother. Marisol slipped into a dormancy two days later. She did not emerge for two weeks.

What stirred in Marisol that night also now stirred in him. He had smelled Javier on the body. He knew the marks from Javier’s fangs well. Their sister’s heart was broken and she was in a dormant state because of Javier’s actions. Esperanza was suffering without her mother, crying day in and day out, only falling to sleep after exhausting herself.

The night after Marisol woke from her dormancy, the body of Javier Ruiz del Aguilar y Ortega was pulled out of the Manzanares. Carlos had made it look like slayers had done it, with liquid silver in Javier’s mouth, silver chains around his body and a silver stake in the place of his heart. 

His heart, Carlos had embalmed and he gave it to Marisol as a gift. While his parents’ had lost their firstborn, his sister had also regained some of herself. And that was worth the price of blood and fratricide. 

[parjiljehavey]

@ninjacat1515 @capitanarmandosalazar @cheshire0824

Marisol’s yells of pain echoed through the convent. Jesus, who had traveled from Rome to be there for the birth of his sister’s child, cringed at a particular wrenching cry. He could hear the nuns comforting and encouraging his younger sister, and hear his sister screaming that she wanted Carlos there. 

Carlos, who was Marisol’s rock and as she was his. 

Carlos, who had not returned from his voyage to the Caribbean thirty years ago. Carlos, who everyone feared dead but not utter a word of that fear.  

“Jesus! Mi hijo!” Teresa called, her cape and skirts sweeping across the floor as she moved. “How is she? I came as quickly as I could.”

Jesus hugged his mother. “She’s alive. At least.” Another cry tore through the house. Teresa made the sign of the cross. “She calls for Carlos.” 

Teresa sighed. Her third-born, and Marisol’s closest brother in terms of age; that in and of it’s self-had bonded them. The two had been close, and she knew that her daughter has not been handling his absence well. Marisol cried again. It would be a very long night. 

Hours later, she sat with Jesus in the chapel, praying to God to give her daughter strength in the childbed and a healthy child. 

“Mama!” Came three calls.

It was her youngest boys. Alejandro and Ben ran to her and she embraced them. Javier and her husband; little Joaquin holding his father’s hand. were with them. Julián kissed his wife’s cheek. 

Her sons talked and Teresa leaned her head against her mate’s shoulder. “Has she had it yet?” Teresa shook her head in dismay. 

“No, it has been hours since I myself arrived.” He kissed her cheek again. 

Teresa sighed, “I was in agony with Javier for days. Do you remember?“ Julian chuckled. 

“I do remember. It was worse with Ale and Ben.” 

Teresa smiled. “Gave me trouble in birth as they have in life.” She whispered. Ale and Ben were telling Jesus of their adventures, and Javier stood by them with his arms crossed. 

Teresa knew Javier did not approve of the father of Marisol’s child - the man was human, after all. She and Juli had their own reservations, but they accepted the human as he made their precious daughter happy. 

They continued to wait. The sun was approaching the rise when they finally heard the cry of a newly-born baby. 

“Dios mío.” Teresa picked up her skirts and ran towards the sounds of the cries. Her husband and children followed. A sister of the cloth was cleaning the child and Marisol was abed, tired and breathing hard but beaming with a maternal glow. “Marisol! My darling!” Teresa went to her daughter’s side. 

Jesus made his way to the sister and asked to hold the child. A girl, she told him and left the room with the midwife and others to give them privacy. Julian stood next to his son as the family gathered around Marisol’s bed. “It’s a girl,” Jesus told him, passing the babe to his father. 

Julián stared down at the little wonder in his arms. His daughter’s child; his granddaughter. “We should give thanks.” He said, walking to Marisol’s bed and handing her her child with reverence. “We should give thanks to God, for the blessings He was given this, our family.” 

Marisol smiled and nuzzled her daughter. “She’s beautiful,” Teresa said with tears in her eyes and stroking the baby’s cheek with a gentle finger. Javier was leaning against the headboard, smiling tightly. 

“It’s red and ugly.” Ale said, looking at the baby. 

Teresa laughed. “You looked like that too.” Ale protested against his mother’s words, making his brothers and sister laugh. 

Joaquin had crawled up next to his sister from the foot of the bed. He peered down at the baby curiously. “What are you going to name her?” 

Marisol smiled, tired and happy. “Esperanza Lucrezia.” Carlos had said if he had a daughter, he would name her Lucrezia. This was her way of honoring him. Teresa smiled. 

“Welcome to the world, little Lancha.”