“He is learning how to negotiate,” Lucía replied.
Miguel stirred against Esperanza’s shoulder. He was a quiet baby, round-cheeked and content whenever he was held. His fingers curled around a fold in her habit.
Sister Lucía placed two slices of bread on a plate and sat across from Esperanza.
“You look pale.”
“I did not sleep well.”
“Because of the baby?”
Esperanza glanced down at her stomach.
There was no visible change yet, but she had already begun touching it unconsciously, as if protecting something hidden.
“I suppose so.”
Lucía lowered her voice.
