lonely stone inhabitants of this exhausted land seemed to part sympathetically before her as she made her way through the rows of stone slabs, which grew daily at an unprecedented rate. “Hey, papá, I'm back,” she whispered, her voice catching as she reached her father's grave, the cool stone offering a cold comfort in the quiet of the graveyard.

The stone was modest, bearing no grand epitaphs or ornate carvings—just his name and a simple phrase: “Beloved Father and Husband.” As her eyes traced the cold letters, Carlos’s words about her mother’s grave resonated in her mind. "You'll see mamita soon, papá," she managed, tears breaking through, tracing salty paths down her cheeks. "And soon... me too," she added, her voice breaking into a whisper...

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