But she knew, now, that someone did, and that whoever it was had been living close enough to reach into her house and squeeze — and she resolved, lying there in the dark, that she would not sleep properly again until she had found the hand and pried it loose.

Chapter 8 — The Sweet Smell

A little after midnight, in the room beside the office, Amparo sat bolt upright in the dark.

“Mother — that smell.” Inmaculada was already awake in the chair by the door; she had not intended to sleep.

A sweetness was seeping into the room, faint and cloying, creeping under the door and along the floor.

“I know that smell,” Amparo said, her voice climbing.

“It’s the smell that comes just before I fall asleep.