“On Thursday night I couldn’t sleep,” he whispered, his voice unsteady.

“I heard Dario and Grandma Blanca talking in the kitchen.

They said they were going to give you a special tea tonight.

They said a little while after you drank it, it would look like your heart just stopped.

And that Dario would wait to call for help until it was too late.”

An icy wave went through me.

I thought of the mug Blanca had set down in front of me only minutes earlier. A special herbal blend for your stress, dear, she had said, so warmly.

I could see it without turning my head — the particular mug, the one she had chosen for me, steam curling off it, the handle turned toward my hand.