Sofia glanced down. “My younger sister was born blind. I grew up learning how to provide care that nurtures independence alongside affection.”
“And your sister now?” Lena asked, ever curious.
“She teaches music in Seville. She insists blindness does not limit life, it only changes perception.”
Marcelo noticed Sofia’s compassion and competence. She adapted every task, every game, every moment to Lena’s world, balancing firmness and kindness perfectly.
When Nina returned, tension filled the room. Lena stiffened, and Sofia quietly receded, allowing space yet remaining vigilant. During dinner, Nina voiced her concern.
“She’s growing too attached. When she leaves, Lena will be devastated.”
Marcelo felt a quiet resolve. “Why would she leave? She is part of this family.”
Nina laughed bitterly. “You’re choosing her over me.”
“I am choosing Lena over convenience,” Marcelo said softly.
That night, Marcelo discovered a small tape recorder on Lena’s nightstand. Sofia’s gentle voice told stories she had recorded, tales where the protagonist, a blind girl, embarked on adventures with courage, wit, and joy. Marcelo realized the depths of her dedication and foresight.