“Young man, where have you been?” Isabella scratched the top of her head with a comb. She had been helping Leandro with his hair when her other son, Leon, walked in.

“Mom, I'm sorry, but I had to go somewhere.” He pleaded, his little hands clutched around a black plastic bag, his tiny frame barely able to hold what he was hiding.

“Where were you and what on earth have you got there?”

“Nothing.”

Isabella moved faster than a shadow. One moment, she was standing in front of ...