People watched them with the same mixture of pity and disdain. Catalina entered the shop, head held high, though her heart raced and hands sweated. Don Roque, a fat man with a gray mustache, scowled at her annoyance. When she placed the silver coin on the counter, his expression changed. He held the coin to the light, bit it, and frowned.
“Where did you get this?” he asked. Catalina, without hesitation, said a distant relative had given it to her. Don Roque eyed her suspiciously but said nothing more. He handed her half a kilo of beans, a kilo of corn, two tallow candles, and tortillas wrapped in paper. No change. That was enough. Catalina accepted it, packed the items in her shawl, and left with her children, feeling their eyes on her back.
Behind them, murmurs swirled like a disturbed hive. Back in the grotto that afternoon, Catalina cooked the beans in an old can found among the abandoned house’s rubble. No salt, but the children ate as if it were a feast. Tomás chewed slowly, eyes closed. Lupita smiled with her mouth full. Carlitos smeared broth over his face, asking for more. Catalina watched them eat and felt relief she hadn’t known in months.
