I couldn’t answer him immediately.
I was still staring at the tattoo.
The eagle.
The rose.
The memory.
Smoke choking my lungs. My mother screaming somewhere downstairs. Heat pressing against my skin while I hid beneath a bed because I was too terrified to move.
Then strong arms lifting me.
A man carrying me through flames.
And that tattoo burned into my memory forever.
“Lucia?” Daniel’s voice sharpened. “Answer me.”
“Yes,” I whispered finally. “I’m in his room.”
Silence. kh
Not angry silence.
Worse.
Defeated silence.
When he spoke again, his voice sounded tired.
“I told you not to go in there.”
“The nurse had an accident. He needed help.”
“You should’ve called my aunt.”
“He was lying there alone.”
I heard him exhale slowly through the phone.
Then he asked the question that truly frightened me.
“What did you see?”
My eyes moved back to Rafael’s shoulder.
The old man watched me carefully from the bed, unable to speak but fully aware.
“I… saw his tattoo.”
Another silence.
Long enough that I checked the phone to make sure the call hadn’t dropped.
Finally Daniel said quietly:
“I’m coming home.”
The line disconnected.
For the next two hours, I sat beside Rafael in complete confusion.
I finished helping him dress. Changed the sheets. Opened the windows to let fresh air into the room.
Every once in a while, he looked at me with an expression I couldn’t understand.
Recognition.
Fear.
Sadness.
Maybe all three.
I made him soup and carefully helped him drink small spoonfuls. His hands trembled violently, so I held the bowl myself.
When I wiped his mouth with a napkin, tears suddenly filled his eyes.
“You saved me,” I whispered before I could stop myself.
His breathing hitched.
And slowly… painfully… he blinked once.
Yes.
I covered my mouth with my hand.
“Oh my God.”
The front door slammed downstairs just before sunset.
Daniel.
