“He made me do the rest,” Soledad whispered.

“The cloth, to start them sleeping.

And then the tape and the line, to keep them under until he was finished and gone before dawn.

I told myself it did them no lasting harm.

I told myself I was protecting them from him — that if I refused, he would simply hurt them instead.

I told myself every lie I needed to get through each night.”

She looked up at Amparo, who stood against the wall with her arms wrapped around herself.