Thought It Was Just a Letter… Until It Took Me Down a Path I Could Never Turn Back From.

He tapped it once.

It sounded hollow.

My stomach dropped.

‘Ricardo,’ I whispered, ‘what did you do?’

He glanced back at me, and there was something in his face I had not seen in years. Not softness. Not fear.

Resolve.

‘I never told you,’ he said, ‘because I prayed I would die before I ever needed to show you.’

Then he slid his fingers into a seam so thin I had never noticed it.

And the wall moved.

Not crumbling.

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