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Passionate

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Maite had always hated being left behind. She was the first of her siblings to study abroad.  

She was happy for Alicia, free to live the life she deserved.

Leaving Maite behind.

Perhaps it was only loneliness that stirred the heat within her whenever she walked close enough to brush doña Teresa’s arm on their increasingly frequent walks.

But she didn’t feel lonely.

Maite had always been passionate. My little pepper, her father called her.

Passion in her witty remarks to shady defendants.

Passion in the way she shoved doña Teresa up against the hedge wall and captured her mouth.