I lived alone in a poor town in Oaxaca, without a husband, children, or immediate family. All my life, I worked in the cornfields and sold at the market, saving every peso to survive.

The cashier checked the screen again, then read in a low voice:

—Note in the register: “I pay for my aunt—the only person who loved me unconditionally.”
—Sender: Diego Hernández.

I gasped. For a moment, my knees shook so much I had to hold onto the counter to keep from falling.

I hadn’t forgotten.
I had paid the debt.
Silently… just as he had left.

Tears streamed down my cheeks right there on the bench. They weren’t from anger, but because this old heart finally understood: it wasn’t that that orphaned child had abandoned me… but that he was searching for a way back, in his own way.