𝙻𝚘𝚜 𝚏𝚒𝚗𝚘𝚜 𝚛𝚊𝚢𝚘𝚜 𝚍𝚎𝚕 𝚜𝚘𝚕 𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚛𝚊𝚋𝚊𝚗 𝚊 𝚝𝚛𝚊𝚟𝚎́𝚜 𝚍𝚎 𝚕𝚊 𝚌𝚘𝚛𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚊 𝚍𝚎 𝚕𝚊 𝚑𝚊𝚋𝚒𝚝𝚊𝚌𝚒𝚘́𝚗, 𝚒𝚕𝚞𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚘 𝚎𝚕 𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚘𝚛𝚗𝚘. 𝙰𝚋𝚛𝚒 𝚕𝚘𝚜 𝚘𝚓𝚘𝚜 𝚌𝚘𝚗 𝚌𝚊𝚗𝚜𝚊𝚗𝚌𝚒𝚘, 𝚖𝚒𝚛𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚘 𝚎𝚕 𝚝𝚎𝚌𝚑𝚘 𝚊𝚞𝚗 𝚌𝚘𝚗 𝚜𝚞𝚎ñ𝚘.
𝙼𝚎 𝚎𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚌𝚎́ 𝚢 𝚜𝚊𝚕𝚒́ 𝚍𝚎 𝚕𝚊 𝚌𝚊𝚖𝚊, 𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚛𝚊́𝚗𝚍𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚎𝚗 𝚎𝚕 𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚌𝚎𝚜𝚘. 𝙼𝚒𝚛𝚎́ 𝚎𝚗 𝚍𝚒𝚛𝚎𝚌𝚌𝚒𝚘́𝚗 𝚊 𝚕𝚊 𝚙𝚞𝚎𝚛𝚝𝚊 𝚍𝚎 𝚕𝚊 𝚑𝚊𝚋𝚒𝚝𝚊𝚌𝚒𝚘́𝚗; 𝚗𝚘 𝚎𝚛𝚊 𝚞𝚗𝚊 𝚐𝚛𝚊𝚗 𝚑𝚊𝚋𝚒𝚝𝚊𝚌𝚒𝚘́𝚗, 𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚋𝚊 𝚞𝚗 𝚙𝚘𝚌𝚘 𝚙𝚘𝚕𝚟𝚘𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚊 𝚢 𝚙𝚛𝚎𝚌𝚊𝚛𝚒𝚊, 𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚘 𝚎𝚛𝚊 𝚞𝚗𝚊 𝚑𝚊𝚋𝚒𝚝𝚊𝚌𝚒𝚘́𝚗 𝚊 𝚏𝚒𝚗 𝚍𝚎 𝚌𝚞𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚊𝚜.
𝚂𝚊𝚕𝚒́ 𝚑𝚊𝚌𝚒𝚊 𝚕𝚊 𝚌𝚘𝚌𝚒𝚗𝚊, 𝚍𝚘𝚗𝚍𝚎 𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚋𝚊𝚗 𝚖𝚒𝚜 𝚙𝚊𝚍𝚛𝚎𝚜 𝚌𝚘𝚗 𝚖𝚒𝚜 𝚝𝚛𝚎𝚜 𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚖𝚊𝚗𝚊𝚜 𝚙𝚎𝚚𝚞𝚎𝚗̃𝚊𝚜 𝚓𝚞𝚐𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚘 𝚊𝚕𝚛𝚎𝚍𝚎𝚍𝚘𝚛. 𝙴𝚕𝚕𝚘𝚜 𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚋𝚊𝚗 𝚜𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚊𝚍𝚘𝚜 𝚎𝚗 𝚕𝚊 𝚖𝚎𝚜𝚊, 𝚑𝚊𝚌𝚒𝚎𝚗𝚍𝚘 𝚌𝚞𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚊𝚜 𝚢 𝚑𝚊𝚋𝚕𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚘 𝚎𝚗 𝚜𝚞𝚜𝚞𝚛𝚛𝚘𝚜 𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚛𝚎 𝚎𝚕𝚕𝚘𝚜. "¿𝚅𝚊𝚖𝚘𝚜 𝚊 𝚌𝚘𝚛𝚝𝚊𝚛 𝚕𝚎𝚗̃𝚊, 𝚙𝚊𝚙𝚊́?", 𝚍𝚒𝚓𝚎, 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚝𝚊́𝚗𝚍𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚞𝚗𝚘 𝚍𝚎 𝚕𝚘𝚜 𝚘𝚓𝚘𝚜 𝚌𝚘𝚗 𝚜𝚞𝚎𝚗̃𝚘. 𝚂𝚒𝚎𝚖𝚙𝚛𝚎 𝚒́𝚋𝚊𝚖𝚘𝚜 𝚊 𝚌𝚘𝚛𝚝𝚊𝚛 𝚕𝚎𝚗̃𝚊 𝚙𝚊𝚛𝚊 𝚟𝚎𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚎𝚗 𝚎𝚕 𝚙𝚞𝚎𝚋𝚕𝚘, 𝚢 𝚢𝚘 𝚕𝚘 𝚊𝚢𝚞𝚍𝚊𝚋𝚊 𝚙𝚘𝚛𝚚𝚞𝚎 𝚗𝚘 𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚊́𝚋𝚊𝚖𝚘𝚜 𝚎𝚗 𝚕𝚊 𝚖𝚎𝚓𝚘𝚛 𝚜𝚒𝚝𝚞𝚊𝚌𝚒𝚘́𝚗.
𝙴́𝚕 𝚜𝚘𝚕𝚘 𝚖𝚎 𝚖𝚒𝚛𝚘́ 𝚎𝚗 𝚜𝚒𝚕𝚎𝚗𝚌𝚒𝚘, 𝚚𝚞𝚎𝚍𝚊́𝚗𝚍𝚘𝚜𝚎 𝚚𝚞𝚒𝚎𝚝𝚘 𝚌𝚘𝚗 𝚜𝚞 𝚎𝚡𝚙𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚒𝚘́𝚗 𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚘𝚒𝚌𝚊, 𝚢 𝚑𝚊𝚋𝚕𝚘́, "𝙽𝚘... 𝚑𝚘𝚢 𝚗𝚘, 𝚑𝚒𝚓𝚘". 𝙻𝚘 𝚖𝚒𝚛𝚎́ 𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚏𝚞𝚗𝚍𝚒𝚍𝚘 𝚙𝚘𝚛 𝚜𝚞𝚜 𝚙𝚊𝚕𝚊𝚋𝚛𝚊𝚜, 𝚘𝚋𝚜𝚎𝚛𝚟𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚘 𝚜𝚞 𝚛𝚘𝚜𝚝𝚛𝚘 𝚢 𝚕𝚞𝚎𝚐𝚘 𝚎𝚕 𝚍𝚎 𝚖𝚒 𝚖𝚊𝚍𝚛𝚎, 𝚚𝚞𝚒𝚎𝚗𝚎𝚜 𝚙𝚊𝚛𝚎𝚌𝚒́𝚊𝚗 𝚎𝚜𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚊𝚕𝚐𝚘.
"𝙴𝚜𝚝𝚊́ 𝚋𝚒𝚎𝚗... 𝙴𝚗𝚝𝚘𝚗𝚌𝚎𝚜, ¿𝚚𝚞𝚎́ 𝚟𝚊𝚖𝚘𝚜 𝚊 𝚑𝚊𝚌𝚎—?" 𝙽𝚘 𝚙𝚞𝚍𝚎 𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚊𝚛 𝚕𝚊 𝚏𝚛𝚊𝚜𝚎, 𝚙𝚞𝚎𝚜 𝚎𝚜𝚌𝚞𝚌𝚑𝚎́ 𝚞𝚗𝚘𝚜 𝚐𝚘𝚕𝚙𝚎𝚜 𝚎𝚗 𝚕𝚊 𝚙𝚞𝚎𝚛𝚝𝚊. 𝙰𝚕𝚌𝚎́ 𝚊 𝚞𝚗𝚊 𝚍𝚎 𝚖𝚒𝚜 𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚖𝚊𝚗𝚒𝚝𝚊𝚜 𝚎𝚗 𝚖𝚒𝚜 𝚋𝚛𝚊𝚣𝚘𝚜 𝚢 𝚖𝚒𝚛𝚎́ 𝚌𝚞𝚛𝚒𝚘𝚜𝚘. 𝙼𝚒 𝚙𝚊𝚍𝚛𝚎 𝚜𝚎 𝚕𝚎𝚟𝚊𝚗𝚝𝚘́ 𝚝𝚛𝚊𝚗𝚚𝚞𝚒𝚕𝚘, 𝚖𝚒𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚛𝚊𝚜 𝚖𝚒 𝚖𝚊𝚍𝚛𝚎 𝚜𝚘𝚕𝚘 𝚖𝚎 𝚖𝚒𝚛𝚊𝚋𝚊 𝚌𝚘𝚗 𝚝𝚛𝚒𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚣𝚊 𝚢 𝚌𝚞𝚕𝚙𝚊.
𝙼𝚎 𝚚𝚞𝚎𝚍𝚎́ 𝚖𝚒𝚛𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚘 𝚎𝚗 𝚍𝚒𝚛𝚎𝚌𝚌𝚒𝚘́𝚗 𝚊 𝚕𝚊 𝚙𝚞𝚎𝚛𝚝𝚊, 𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚏𝚞𝚜𝚘. 𝙼𝚒 𝚙𝚊𝚍𝚛𝚎 𝚝𝚘𝚖𝚘́ 𝚎𝚕 𝚙𝚒𝚌𝚊𝚙𝚘𝚛𝚝𝚎, 𝚊𝚋𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚗𝚍𝚘 𝚙𝚊𝚛𝚊 𝚍𝚎𝚓𝚊𝚛 𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚊 𝚞𝚗 𝚑𝚘𝚖𝚋𝚛𝚎 𝚊𝚕𝚝𝚘 𝚢 𝚐𝚛𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚎. 𝚅𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚒́𝚊 𝚛𝚘𝚙𝚊𝚜 𝚎𝚗 𝚖𝚞𝚌𝚑𝚘 𝚖𝚎𝚓𝚘𝚛𝚎𝚜 𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚍𝚒𝚌𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚎𝚜 𝚚𝚞𝚎 𝚕𝚊𝚜 𝚗𝚞𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚛𝚊𝚜 𝚢 𝚕𝚕𝚎𝚟𝚊𝚋𝚊 𝚊𝚕𝚐𝚞𝚗𝚊𝚜 𝚓𝚘𝚢𝚊𝚜 𝚚𝚞𝚎 𝚗𝚞𝚗𝚌𝚊 𝚑𝚊𝚋𝚒́𝚊 𝚟𝚒𝚜𝚝𝚘 𝚎𝚗 𝚎𝚕 𝚙𝚞𝚎𝚋𝚕𝚘. "𝙿𝚊𝚜𝚎", 𝚍𝚒𝚓𝚘 𝚖𝚒 𝚙𝚊𝚍𝚛𝚎 𝚌𝚘𝚗 𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚙𝚎𝚝𝚘, 𝚍𝚎𝚓𝚊́𝚗𝚍𝚘𝚕𝚘 𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚛𝚊𝚛.
𝙲𝚞𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚘 𝚎𝚕 𝚑𝚘𝚖𝚋𝚛𝚎 𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚛𝚘́, 𝚗𝚘𝚜 𝚍𝚒𝚛𝚒𝚐𝚒𝚘́ 𝚞𝚗𝚊 𝚖𝚒𝚛𝚊𝚍𝚊 𝚋𝚛𝚎𝚟𝚎 𝚊 𝚖𝚒 𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚖𝚊𝚗𝚊 𝚢 𝚊 𝚖𝚒́, 𝚘𝚋𝚜𝚎𝚛𝚟𝚊́𝚗𝚍𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚍𝚎 𝚙𝚒𝚎𝚜 𝚊 𝚌𝚊𝚋𝚎𝚣𝚊. "𝙱𝚒𝚎𝚗... 𝚀𝚞𝚒𝚣𝚊́𝚜 𝚗𝚘𝚜 𝚜𝚒𝚛𝚟𝚊 𝚞𝚗𝚊 𝚖𝚊𝚗𝚘 𝚎𝚡𝚝𝚛𝚊...", 𝚍𝚒𝚓𝚘, 𝚖𝚒𝚛𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚘 𝚊 𝚖𝚒 𝚙𝚊𝚍𝚛𝚎 𝚌𝚘𝚗 𝚜𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚍𝚊𝚍. 𝚂𝚘𝚕𝚘 𝚖𝚒𝚛𝚊𝚋𝚊 𝚊 𝚖𝚒𝚜 𝚙𝚊𝚍𝚛𝚎𝚜, 𝚜𝚒𝚗 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚙𝚛𝚎𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚚𝚞𝚎́ 𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚋𝚊 𝚙𝚊𝚜𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚘.
𝙴𝚕 𝚑𝚘𝚖𝚋𝚛𝚎 𝚍𝚎𝚓𝚘́ 𝚞𝚗𝚊 𝚋𝚘𝚕𝚜𝚊 𝚌𝚘𝚗 𝚖𝚞𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚜 𝚖𝚘𝚗𝚎𝚍𝚊𝚜 𝚢 𝚓𝚘𝚢𝚊𝚜 𝚎𝚗𝚌𝚒𝚖𝚊 𝚍𝚎 𝚕𝚊 𝚖𝚎𝚜𝚊, 𝚕𝚘 𝚌𝚞𝚊𝚕 𝚙𝚘𝚍𝚛𝚒́𝚊 𝚜𝚊𝚌𝚊𝚛 𝚊 𝚖𝚒 𝚏𝚊𝚖𝚒𝚕𝚒𝚊 𝚍𝚎 𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚎 𝚕𝚞𝚐𝚊𝚛 𝚘 𝚖𝚊𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚎𝚛𝚗𝚘𝚜 𝚖𝚎𝚓𝚘𝚛. 𝙻𝚘 𝚖𝚒𝚛𝚎́ 𝚜𝚘𝚛𝚙𝚛𝚎𝚗𝚍𝚒𝚍𝚘, 𝚢 𝚕𝚞𝚎𝚐𝚘 𝚖𝚎 𝚜𝚘𝚋𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚊𝚕𝚝𝚎́ 𝚌𝚞𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚘 𝚜𝚎 𝚐𝚒𝚛𝚘́ 𝚙𝚊𝚛𝚊 𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚖𝚎. "𝙱𝚒𝚎𝚗, 𝚟𝚊𝚖𝚘𝚜", 𝚍𝚒𝚓𝚘. 𝚈𝚘 𝚕𝚘 𝚖𝚒𝚛𝚎́ 𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚊́𝚝𝚒𝚌𝚘, 𝚜𝚒𝚗 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚙𝚛𝚎𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚢 𝚌𝚘𝚗 𝚖𝚒𝚎𝚍𝚘. 𝙼𝚒𝚜 𝚙𝚊𝚍𝚛𝚎𝚜 𝚗𝚘 𝚖𝚎 𝚖𝚒𝚛𝚊𝚛𝚘𝚗, 𝚢 𝚜𝚘𝚕𝚘 𝚍𝚎𝚝𝚞𝚟𝚒𝚎𝚛𝚘𝚗 𝚊 𝚖𝚒𝚜 𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚖𝚊𝚗𝚊𝚜 𝚙𝚎𝚚𝚞𝚎𝚗̃𝚊𝚜 𝚙𝚊𝚛𝚊 𝚚𝚞𝚎 𝚗𝚘 𝚏𝚞𝚎𝚛𝚊𝚗 𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚖𝚒𝚐𝚘.
𝙴𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚋𝚊 𝚎𝚗 𝚜𝚑𝚘𝚌𝚔, 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚙𝚛𝚎𝚗𝚍𝚒𝚎𝚗𝚍𝚘 𝚕𝚘 𝚚𝚞𝚎 𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚋𝚊 𝚜𝚞𝚌𝚎𝚍𝚒𝚎𝚗𝚍𝚘. "𝙽𝚘, 𝚗𝚘 𝚙𝚞𝚎𝚍𝚎 𝚜𝚎𝚛", 𝚙𝚎𝚗𝚜𝚊𝚋𝚊, 𝚟𝚒𝚎𝚗𝚍𝚘 𝚌𝚘𝚗 𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚛𝚘𝚛 𝚢 𝚗𝚎𝚛𝚟𝚒𝚘𝚜 𝚊𝚕 𝚑𝚘𝚖𝚋𝚛𝚎 𝚊𝚕𝚝𝚘 𝚏𝚛𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚎 𝚊 𝚖𝚒́. 𝚂𝚒𝚗 𝚎𝚜𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚊𝚛, 𝚖𝚎 𝚝𝚘𝚖𝚘́ 𝚍𝚎 𝚕𝚊 𝚖𝚞𝚗̃𝚎𝚌𝚊, 𝚕𝚕𝚎𝚟𝚊́𝚗𝚍𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚌𝚘𝚗 𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚌𝚎𝚓𝚎𝚘𝚜 𝚏𝚞𝚎𝚛𝚊 𝚍𝚎 𝚕𝚊 𝚌𝚊𝚜𝚊 𝚖𝚒𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚛𝚊𝚜 𝚕𝚎𝚜 𝚙𝚎𝚍𝚒́𝚊 𝚊 𝚖𝚒𝚜 𝚙𝚊𝚍𝚛𝚎𝚜 𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚛𝚎 𝚐𝚛𝚒𝚝𝚘𝚜 𝚢 𝚕𝚕𝚊𝚗𝚝𝚘 𝚚𝚞𝚎 𝚗𝚘 𝚖𝚎 𝚚𝚞𝚎𝚛𝚒́𝚊 𝚒𝚛, 𝚚𝚞𝚎 𝚒𝚋𝚊 𝚊 𝚑𝚊𝚌𝚎𝚛 𝚞𝚗 𝚖𝚎𝚓𝚘𝚛 𝚝𝚛𝚊𝚋𝚊𝚓𝚘. 𝙿𝚎𝚛𝚘 𝚎𝚕𝚕𝚘𝚜 𝚜𝚘𝚕𝚘 𝚑𝚒𝚌𝚒𝚎𝚛𝚘𝚗 𝚘𝚒́𝚍𝚘𝚜 𝚜𝚘𝚛𝚍𝚘𝚜, 𝚖𝚘𝚜𝚝𝚛𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚘 𝚞𝚗𝚊 𝚖𝚒𝚛𝚊𝚍𝚊 𝚝𝚛𝚒𝚜𝚝𝚎. 𝙼𝚒 𝚖𝚊𝚍𝚛𝚎 𝚜𝚎 𝚚𝚞𝚎𝚋𝚛𝚘́ 𝚢 𝚕𝚕𝚘𝚛𝚘́, 𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚘 𝚗𝚘 𝚕𝚘 𝚍𝚎𝚝𝚞𝚟𝚘.
𝙽𝚘 𝚙𝚘𝚍𝚒́𝚊 𝚙𝚊𝚛𝚊𝚛 𝚊𝚕 𝚑𝚘𝚖𝚋𝚛𝚎 𝚚𝚞𝚎 𝚖𝚎 𝚜𝚞𝚓𝚎𝚝𝚊𝚋𝚊 𝚍𝚎 𝚕𝚊 𝚖𝚞𝚗̃𝚎𝚌𝚊 𝚜𝚞 𝚌𝚞𝚎𝚛𝚙𝚘 𝚎𝚛𝚊 𝚏𝚞𝚎𝚛𝚝𝚎 𝚢 𝚜𝚞 𝚖𝚊𝚗𝚘 𝚐𝚛𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚎 𝚊𝚐𝚊𝚛𝚛𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚘 𝚖𝚒 𝚖𝚞𝚗̃𝚎𝚌𝚊, 𝚕𝚕𝚎𝚟𝚊́𝚗𝚍𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚌𝚘𝚗 𝚏𝚞𝚎𝚛𝚣𝚊 𝚏𝚞𝚎𝚛𝚊 𝚍𝚎 𝚌𝚊𝚜𝚊. 𝙽𝚘 𝚙𝚘𝚍𝚒́𝚊 𝚣𝚊𝚏𝚊𝚛𝚖𝚎 𝚍𝚎 𝚜𝚞 𝚊𝚐𝚊𝚛𝚛𝚎; 𝚖𝚒𝚜 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚘𝚜 𝚎𝚛𝚊𝚗 𝚒𝚗𝚞́𝚝𝚒𝚕𝚎𝚜 𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚝𝚛𝚊 𝚎́𝚕. "𝙽𝚘𝚜 𝚟𝚊𝚜 𝚊 𝚜𝚎𝚛 𝚍𝚎 𝚊𝚢𝚞𝚍𝚊 𝚎𝚗 𝚎𝚕 𝚘𝚛𝚏𝚊𝚗𝚊𝚝𝚘, 𝚗𝚎𝚌𝚎𝚜𝚒𝚝𝚊𝚖𝚘𝚜 𝚊 𝚊𝚕𝚐𝚞𝚒𝚎𝚗 𝚖𝚊́𝚜 𝚙𝚊𝚛𝚊 𝚌𝚘𝚛𝚝𝚊𝚛 𝚕𝚎𝚗̃𝚊 𝚢 𝚑𝚊𝚌𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚛𝚊𝚋𝚊𝚓𝚘𝚜 𝚙𝚎𝚜𝚊𝚍𝚘𝚜", 𝚍𝚒𝚓𝚘, 𝚖𝚒𝚛𝚊́𝚗𝚍𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚍𝚎 𝚛𝚎𝚘𝚓𝚘. "¿𝙾𝚛𝚏𝚊𝚗𝚊𝚝𝚘?", 𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚗𝚞𝚗𝚌𝚒𝚎́ 𝚌𝚘𝚗 𝚕𝚊́𝚐𝚛𝚒𝚖𝚊𝚜 𝚢 𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚛𝚘𝚛.