I was terrified that Santos and his henchmen would return. And there was nothing I could do to prevent this from happening. I was also so worried about Yonah. How could I help him? I was helpless. How could I live without seeing him ever again? One morning, after a particularly sleepless and fretful night, Mama and Papa found me sitting on a bench, weeping in the courtyard. “Child, what’s wrong? Are you frightened for me?” Papa asked as he sat next to me. I put my arms around him and laid my head against his chest. “I couldn’t bear it if anything happened to you.” “I’ll do everything I possibly can to keep the Inquisition away from us.” Mama became emotional again. She, too, had not been herself of late. “Oh, Enrique, I am so frightened for you as well. For all of us! I pray to the almighty day and night to keep us safe.” “And for Yonah,” I mumbled, “will you pray to God to keep him safe, too?” I was horrified when I realized what I had said – but it was too late to take back the words.
