Bruises

I woke up being shaken by Isabela.

Seeing her alarmed face, I sprang from the cushion and scanned the surroundings.

It was still night. The lamp on the table remained the brightest thing in the room. Through the gaps in the window, I saw only darkness.

There was no one else but the two of us.

"What's wrong, hija?" I focused on her. She looked freshly woken but neither sick nor in pain.

"It's Vicente… he's knocking outside," she told me.

I furrowed my brow. I remembered how she was blushing last night.

My still-groggy mind immediately conjured a theory. What if something had happened between them in my room—something that happened nightly—and Vicente had simply forgotten I had returned, demanding entrance to continue it?

But my indignation lasted only a moment. What I heard next filled me with terrible shame for ever doubting the two of them.

"Heneral!" Vicente knocked again, clearly looking for me.