I place my hand against the cheek Papa slapped. It still stings, but I don’t know if the pain is real or imagined. Perhaps it’s a bit of both.
Cesar sits down beside me on the grass and takes my hand. “I remember the first time Papa hit me.”
I look at him in shock. “Papa’s hit you?”
Cesar nods. “I was younger than you are now,” he tells me. “Probably about seven.”
“What happened?” I ask. I’m still sobbing but not as hard anymore. My breath comes a little easier as I lean into my brother’s warmth.
“I can’t remember,” Cesar replies. “I know that sounds strange, but I honestly can’t remember. I was doing something he didn’t want me doing. Or maybe I said something he didn’t like. Either way, he punched me in the face. My nose started bleeding, I thought it was broken.”
“Was it?”
“No,” Cesar shakes his head. “But his ring left a mark.”
I gasp, noticing the tiny white scar on the bridge of his nose. “That’s how you got it?”
“That’s how I got it,” he says. “But Papa never hit me again after that. You know why?”
I shake my head and wait for the massive revelation that I think is going to come.
“I never gave him a reason to,” Cesar tells me. “I do whatever Papa wants, and I do it however he wants. And you must learn to do the same.”
For some reason, I shudder. “What if I can’t?”
“Does your cheek hurt, little bird?” Cesar asks.
I nod. “A lot.”
“It will get a lot worse if you continue to defy him. I know you’re growing up, but that’s only going to make him harder on you.”
“I’d rather take the pain than do everything I’m told to do,” I snap defiantly.
Cesar smiles. “You’re braver than I am. But you’re also young. Pain takes all sorts of different forms, and it stays with you, little sister. It works its way into your skin and never leaves. You and I have been born to a don. Our life will never be easy. We will always be bound by the expectations of the Moreno cartel.”
“Then maybe I don’t want to be a Moreno anymore.”
Cesar raises his eyebrows and looks me dead in the eye. “If you’re not a Moreno, who will you be?” he asks.
I shrug. “Someone else.”
He ruffles my hair. “That’s a good plan.”
“Are you making fun of me?” I demand.
“No, I’m not,” Cesar says softly. I believe him. “You’re not just braver than I am, little bird. You’re smarter, too. I don’t have the option of not being a Moreno. But you might.”
“How?”
“You might have to disappear one day,” he tells me. “Find a quiet corner of the world to call your own and just… live.”
“Why would I have to disappear?” I ask, alarmed by the notion of disappearing at all.
“Because if you don’t, Papa will look for you,” Cesar tells me. “And if he finds you…”
“I’ll be back to being a Moreno,” I finish.
Cesar’s eyes are dark with grief. I notice that his fingers tremble slightly. I reach out and take his hand, massaging it gently between mine.