The afternoon was falling over Jam & Roller with that warm light that couldn't decide whether to stay or leave. The interior lights were already on, reflecting on the rink as if someone had scattered a tired but steady glow. The place was still alive: laughter, wheels spinning, the sound of ground coffee behind the counter. Nothing was wrong. And yet, something still didn't quite fit.
Ámbar was going over a spreadsheet on the counter, pen in hand, marking schedules and shifts with a concentration that wasn't entirely real. Since the reunion with Sylvana, everything seemed to be following its normal course... except for her. She was there, fulfilling her role as manager, giving instructions, making sure the rink didn't get overcrowded, but inside she walked around with a question she still didn't dare to ask.
───Hey, Ámbar ───Jazmín said, suddenly appearing at her side───, did you know that in Mexico they say 'popote' and not 'straw'?
Ámbar blinked, as if it took her an extra second to come back.
───What?
───That ───Jazmín insisted, pointing at Emilia with her finger───. She just corrected me. Again.
Emilia, leaning against the bar with her arms crossed, didn't even flinch.
───I didn't correct you. I informed you ───she said, curtly───. They're different things.
───It's a tube! ───Jazmín protested───. You use it to drink beverages. It can't have so many identities.
───Tell that to the Royal Academy... or a Mexican ───Emilia replied, raising an eyebrow ever so slightly.
Jazmín looked at her, offended for half a second. Then she frowned.
───You said it like I'm kind of dumb.
───No ───Emilia replied───. That's just your perception.
───See! ───Jazmín turned to Ámbar for support───. Cold, blunt, and Mexican.
───Proudly ───Emilia concluded, unable to hide a tiny smile that only appeared once Jazmín was already looking away.
Ámbar watched them in silence. She didn't smile right away. It took a moment. But when she did, it was genuine. There was something in that dynamic that reassured her, as if that small, everyday chaos reminded her that the world kept turning even when you didn't quite know who you were.
───Girls ───she finally said───, as long as you don't fight on the dance floor, you can argue about poles as much as you want.
───See? ───said Jazmín, pointing at Emilia───. She understands me.
───I didn't say that ───clarified Ámbar, and for the first time that afternoon, her voice sounded a little lighter.
Emilia looked at her closely. Not like someone hearing a sentence, but like someone noticing a state of being. Something about Ámbar's shoulders, the way she held the pen, wasn't quite right. Jazmín kept talking, as always, but Emilia stayed there, silent, keeping that observation for later.
The music got a bit louder. On the dance floor, a group was practicing freestyle moves, clumsy but enthusiastic. The Jam & Roller breathed normality.
Ámbar looked up for one second longer than necessary. And she thought, without saying it, that maybe that was the problem: everything stayed the same... but she didn't.
She rested the pen on the counter and allowed herself to breathe. Just for a second. No more. She could see the whole scene: wheels turning, bodies falling and getting up, laughter that didn't ask anything. Sylvana had been there too, she thought, unwillingly.
Not at that moment. But she had been. And now she was coming back. Like a door left ajar.
She shook her head, as if she could arrange her thoughts by sheer gesture, and turned just as Jazmín appeared again, now with her phone in hand and a conspiratorial look on her face.
───Hey... ───she said quietly─── Do you think someone can be confused without it meaning anything?
Ámbar barely raised an eyebrow.
───It depends ───she replied───. Confused about what?
Jazmín opened her mouth... and then closed it. She looked toward Emilia, who was arranging some trays with Rosales; serious, efficient, focused.
───Nothing ───she said quickly───. Forget it.
───Jazmín ───Ámbar gently stopped her───. If it's important, it's not nothing.
Jazmín swallowed. But before she could answer, Emilia approached.
───Rosales is asking if you can cover the morning shift again tomorrow ───she told Ámbar───. He says he trusts you for the whole month on that shift.
Ámbar nodded.
───Tell him yes.
Emilia held her gaze for one more second. Too long to be casual.
───Are you okay? ───she asked, straight to the point.
Ámbar smiled, automatically.
───Yes.
Emilia didn't press. But Jazmín did give her a strange look.
───You don't know how to lie ───she told Ámbar───. I mean... you do, but badly.
Ámbar let out a brief, grateful laugh.
───Thanks for the delicacy.
Jazmín stepped back a few paces, looked at her phone again, and started typing quickly.
───Delfi, I need to tell you something and I don't want you to laugh.
───Well, yes, you can laugh, but not too much.
On the other side, the response didn't take long.
───That never happened. Tell me.
Jazmín bit her lip.
───I think I like someone.
───And I think it's a girl.
───And I think it terrifies me.
From the rink, Emilia looked up without knowing why. Jazmín was watching her. And for the first time, she didn't look away.
The Jam & Roller kept spinning, as always.
But something (in Ámbar, in Jazmín, in Emilia) was already starting to move for real.
The night couldn't be seen. It could be felt.
Sharon was sitting on the bed, back straight and hands resting on her knees. The hallway was silent, interrupted only by the distant sound of a television in another room and the murmur of a nurse taking attendance.
Sharon's world was that now: sounds, temperatures, memories.
───Again ───said the voice, close───. You always go back to the same place.
Sharon tensed her shoulders.
───No ───she replied, firmly───. Not today.
The voice didn't need eyes to exist.
───You hurt her.
The air seemed to thicken.
Sharon pressed her fingers against the fabric of the quilt.
───I didn't want to ───she whispered───. I love her.
The laughter came slowly. Without mockery. With truth.
───That was never enough.
The name appeared without being spoken.
Ámbar.
Sharon could feel her as if she were there: the way she breathed when she was upset, the silence she used as a defense. The firm tone, so different from Lili's... and yet so similar at the same time.
───He's strong ───murmured Sharon───. Stronger than I ever was.
The memory of Alfredo then filtered in. Not as an image, but as a presence. As a weight.
───You always chose wrong ───the voice said───. First him. Then fear.
Sharon brought a hand to her chest. Her heart was beating irregularly.
───I did what I could ───she said, in a thin voice───. No one taught me to care without controlling.
The silence in the center was different from that of a house.
More clinical. More definitive.
From the hallway came the sound of a door closing. A metal cart moving. Footsteps.
Sharon felt small.
───She doesn't need you anymore ───the voice insisted───. She has Simón. She has her life.
That hurt more than any reproach.
───That's fine ───Sharon replied, forcing herself to believe it───. She has the right.
The voice didn't answer immediately.
───And you? ───it asked then───. What are you when you're not indispensable?
Sharon swallowed. She had no answer.
She leaned forward and rested her elbows on her knees, covering her face with her hands.
───I don't know how to love without fear ─── she admitted, broken───.
The hallway lights dimmed partially. Not because Sharon saw it, but because the sound changed. The center was entering its nighttime mode.
The darkness wasn't outside. It was inside.
And as the building quieted down, Sharon understood something with a clarity that hurt more than blindness:
There were no ghosts more cruel than the ones you create when you love badly
El Jam & Roller was at its exact level of noise. Background music, the clatter of cups, overlapping laughter. That organized chaos that Ámbar knew by heart.
Jazmín was sitting on the edge of the bar, with one skate on and the other hanging from her foot, struggling with the laces.
───I swear this skate hates me ───she said───. It always fits differently.
Emilia, leaning on the other side, looked at her unhurriedly.
───It doesn't hate you ───she replied───. It knows you.
───What do you mean it knows me?
───It knows you don't know how to tie your laces.
───Yes, I do!
Emilia raised an eyebrow.
───Uh-huh.
Jazmín huffed and kept struggling.
───I hate that you're right so often.
───I'm not ───Emilia replied, taking the lace and tightening it in one smooth move───. That's one of my best qualities.
Jazmín looked at her.
───Being arrogant?
───Being efficient.
Jazmín stared at her hands a second too long. Then she cleared her throat.
───Thank you... ───he said, lowering his voice───.
Emilia shrugged, but she didn't move away right away.
Ámbar watched them from the coffee machine. She didn't quite smile, but something in her chest loosened. Those little scenes gave her a sense of normalcy again.
Later, when it was closing time, Ámbar found Mónica sitting at a table in the back.
───How long have you been there? ───Ámbar asked, approaching.
───Since I saw you with that face ───Mónica replied───. Don't lie to me, I know you. And Simon already told me something...
Ámbar sat across from her. She hesitated for a second. Then she spoke.
───The past has returned.
Mónica wasn't surprised.
───The past comes back when one feels stronger ───she said───. Not before.
Ámbar lowered her gaze.
───I don't know if I feel strong. It had been a while since I saw her...
Mónica reached out her hand and covered hers.
───You are standing. That's already much more than before.
Ámbar took a deep breath.
───I'm afraid of what I'll hear when I ask.
Mónica nodded.
───That's also part of growing ───she said───. Asking, even if it hurts.
There was a comfortable silence.
───You're not alone ───she added───. You never completely were.
Ámbar looked up. And for the first time in days, she believed it.
Mónica watched her in silence for a few more seconds. There was no need to insist. Ámbar had already said enough.
───Come ───she said suddenly.
Ámbar barely furrowed her brow, confused, but she got up anyway. Mónica wrapped her in her arms and held her close to her chest. It wasn't a dramatic hug. It was firm. Steady. One of those that doesn't ask for an explanation.
Ámbar rested her forehead on her shoulder. She closed her eyes.
───You don't have to handle everything ───Mónica murmured, in a low voice───. No one can. And asking for help doesn't make you weaker. You don't have only Simón.
Ámbar swallowed.
───Sometimes I feel like I'm always holding on ───she admitted───. As if I could never let go.
Mónica stroked her hair, slowly.
───You held on alone for a long time ───she said───. Now learn to rest on others. That's part of growing up too.
Ámbar pulled back just slightly. She looked at her with shining eyes.
───Thank you ───he said───. For being here.
───Always ───replied Mónica, without hesitation───. To talk, to cry, or to stay in silence. Whatever you need.
At that moment, Simón appeared from the back of the place. He had his jacket slung over his shoulder and his gaze searching for her, as if he had felt her before seeing her.
───Shall we go? ───he asked softly.
Ámbar nodded.
───Yes.
Simón came closer and placed a hand on her back, protective, without intruding. Mónica looked at both of them and smiled with something like relief.
───Take care of her ───he said to Simon, more as a statement than a request.
───Always ───he replied.
Ámbar took Simon's hand. Before leaving, she looked at Monica once more.
───I'll call you ───she promised.
───No need to promise ───she replied───. I know.
They walked toward the exit. Outside, the night awaited them. And for the first time in a long time, Ámbar wasn't afraid to go home.
───Did you think I was going to disappear? ───said the voice.
Sharon froze in bed. She didn't need to see her to know it.
───No... ───she whispered───. Not you.
Lili laughed. A soft laugh. Almost sweet. The same one she had always had.
───Fire doesn't erase anything, Sharon ───she continued───. It only leaves what was already there.
The smell came first. Smoke, burning wood, and fabric on fire.
The Benson mansion came fully back into her mind.
───It was an accident... ───said Sharon, in desperation───. I didn't mean to...
───You're lying ───replied Lili───. As always.
The image settled in: flames climbing the stairs, muffled screams, the heat becoming unbearable
───You left us there ───said the voice, now closer───. Bernie and me.
───No! ───shouted Sharon───. I was scared. I didn't know what to do.
───You always knew what to do when it came to yourself.
Sharon's breathing became erratic. She brought her hands to her head.
───Shut up... ───she begged───. Please.
But the voices didn't stop. They multiplied.
───Is that how you take care of your own? ───said Alfredo, sternly───. You were never up to the task.
───Aunt... ───whispered Sol, her niece───. Why did you never love me?
───I did ───said Rey───. Always. And you pushed me out of your life.
───I would never have loved you ───spat Bernie───. And if I ever did care for you... I lost it when you chose to keep everything that was mine.
Sharon jumped up abruptly.
───Enough! ───she shouted into the emptiness.
The first blow was sharp. Her forehead against the wall. The pain brought her back to her body, but not to calm.
───This is your fault ───said Ámbar's voice───. All this silence. All this damage.
───No... ───Sharon sobbed───. I chose her. I took care of her...
Another blow. The wall was no longer smooth.
───You rejected her ───said Bernie───. Just like you rejected Sol.
───Don't look at me like that! ───Sharon shouted, hitting again───. Don't look at me!
The blood began to slide, warm, marking the wall she couldn't see.
The blows became clumsier. More desperate.
───Forgive me... ───she murmured───. Forgive me, everyone...
The body no longer responded. Sharon fell to her knees and then to her side, powerless, breathless, voiceless. Only silence. A thick silence.
───Sharon?
The door burst open.
───Help! ───shouted the nurse upon seeing the scene───. I need help here, now!
Hurried footsteps. Real voices. Hands trying to hold her up. But Sharon was no longer there.
She had fallen, once again, into the darkness she herself had ignited years ago.
The apartment was quiet, but not that heavy silence that Ámbar had known before. It was different. Warmer. More alive.
The table was set simply. Two plates. A bottle of water. The food still steaming. Nothing fancy, but made together.
Ámbar was sitting across from Simón, one leg folded on the chair, her hair down, and a long t-shirt that was clearly not hers. He watched her as she cut the food, as if that small gesture was already enough to calm him.
───These days were... ───Ámbar searched for the word───. Intense.
Simón gave a tired smile.
───It's a fancy way of saying "exhausting."
She let out a short laugh.
───Yes. That.
They ate a couple of bites in silence. Not uncomfortable. Necessary.
───What happened at the Roller today... ───Ámbar continued─── I didn't think it would hurt this much.
Simón put down his utensils.
───Because you saw her?
───Because of everything ───she replied───. Because she's not a stranger. Because she's not just an employee. Because she is... ───swallowed─── my biological mom.
The word still weighed on her tongue.
───And I'm going to see her every day ───she added───. I can't avoid her.
Simón looked at her with full attention.
───And what do you feel you should do?
Ámbar shook her head.
───I don't know. Part of me wants her to tell me everything. To tell me who my father was. Why that last name. Why she left me.
And another part... ───she lowered her gaze─── wants her to stay away. Because every time she shows up, something breaks.
Simón reached across the table and took her hand.
───You don't have to decide now ───he said───. Or do it perfectly.
She looked up.
───What if I make a mistake?
He smiled.
───Then you have me to make mistakes with you calmly.
Ámbar exhaled, as if only then she could truly breathe.
───You always say the right thing.
───Lie ───Simón replied───. But I say what I feel.
He stood up, went around the table, and sat next to her. Ámbar let herself fall against his chest without resisting. Simón wrapped his arms around her waist and rested his chin on her head.
───Besides ───he added───, you're forgetting something important, my queen.
───What?
───That you're very easy to distract.
Before she could ask, he started tickling her side. Ámbar let out a small scream and squirmed, laughing.
───Love! ───she protested─── Don't be cheating!
───Too late.
She ended up laughing against his chest, out of breath. He took the opportunity to kiss her neck, slowly, gently, as if marking a safe territory.
───Thank you ───murmured Ámbar───. For loving me.
───Always ───he replied, without hesitation.
The phone vibrated on the table.
Ámbar frowned.
───Who's calling at this hour?
She barely sat up and looked at the screen. The number wasn't saved.
───Hello?
Simón felt his body tense up suddenly.
───Yes... it's me.
Silence. Long.
───What do you mean, intensive care? ───Ámbar asked, her voice dropping suddenly.
Simón sat up straight.
───Self-harm? ───she repeated, pale───Is she... alive?
Another silence.
───Yes... yes, I understand.
He hung up.
She stared at the phone for a few seconds, as if she couldn't quite process it.
───It's Sharon ───she finally said───. She's in intensive care. She got hurt. Badly.
Simón immediately went to her side, holding her before the impact fully sank in.
Ámbar closed her eyes.
The day had been long, and it still wasn't over