I married my 80-year-old neighbor to save his house… and then I got pregnant and his family came for bl00d

a fairly ordinary woman with a careful job and a quiet life. I worked in accounting for a wholesale appliance distributor in Santa Paloma, a town small enough that nothing stayed private and large enough thateveryone pretended they were above gossip while living on it like sugar. I rented a small apartment behind a bakery on Calle Jacaranda. I paid my bills on time. I kept my head down. I believed in neat columns of numbers, in receipts, in signatures, in the comfort of paper proving what people liked to deny. I did not think my life was headed toward