In her back kitchen, Rosalba was also remembering. It was as if the wedding dress had opened a window in her head. She had begun to remember the things she had made herself forget for so long, and now it seemed she could not stop the process. Oddly, she welcomed it. It had remained hidden too long. It was time to let the past return.

She remembered the day the strangers had come to the village and hanged the priest. Carlos had made her hide in the cellar with the boys until it ...