An acceptance letter, the ink beginning to run.

A copy of a birth certificate.

And a photograph, protected in a plastic sleeve: Gael, young and alive and laughing, holding a baby, while a dark-haired young woman leaned against his shoulder and smiled at the camera.

Chapter 5 — Our Grandson

Magdalena took the photograph from her husband’s shaking hands, and the blood drained from her face.

“Aurelio,” she said.

“That’s our grandson.” Fifteen years earlier, in the raw months after Gael’s death, they had heard a rumor — a whisper passed along by someone who had known the couple — that Araceli had been pregnant when Gael died.