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¿Te sabes alguna nana?, Ofelia asks.

She has no lullaby of her own. When she was young, and her mother younger, there was a song her mother would sing her. She doesn't know the sound of it. She doesn't know the words. She remembers when her mother was happy. Now, her mother never smiles, only ever frowns.

Sólo una..., Mercedes says. Pero no recuerdo la letra.

No me importa, Ofelia insists. Quiero escucharla.

She almost thinks she knows this song, as Mercedes begins to hum. Ofelia feels warm, safe, with Mercedes' arms about her. Like she might have felt, with her mother, long before. Her mother doesn't feel like her mother now, not anymore.

(She will hear this song again, but not until she dies.)