Una Carta de Destino: Amor Prohibido entre la Chica de la Carta Sin Leer y el Continental Rodrigo de Mendoza

"It is one thing to be in love with a man. It is another thing to be in love with Death.

I knew it the moment I saw him, so still and cold in that great pile of rags he called home. He was my future, I could see it written on his forehead, and I took the letter from its place between his brows. As we danced through the streets of Cartagena, hot wind blowing in our hair, my finger traced the impeccably neat letters:

Deo gratias Annae filiae eius Mariae

I could tell you how he loved me, how we were never apart for long, how he found work as a tutor for a wealthy family in the city. How we met secretly whenever he could break away from his new duties, how we had no fear of discovery because we were always watched over by a great angel whose head was like that of a lion and bore gigantic wings outstretched across the heavens. How when the Inquisition finally came for Rodrigo I fled far away with my love. To Curacao where he had been born of African slaves who died bringing him into this world; where finally I gave birth to my child without fear of persecution or death; where Rodrigo held me as I died holding our daughter Angelina in my arms; for her name meant 'Angel' and she was given that name by Rodrigo who was himself an angel sent down to save me from all evil.

But perhaps they are not my stories to tell."