Las Dos Marias

Chapter 29: Letters From Rosa

Doña Esperanza woke earlier than usual, her sleep shattered by a restlessness that clung to her like the damp humidity of the early morning. The memory of her husband and daughter's conversation about the young healer still simmered in her mind, filling her with a mix of unease and indignation.

That girl, Isabela Ramos—something about her unsettled Esperanza, especially the way Trinidad, still fresh out of the convent, seemed drawn to her. She'd noticed the secretive glances between them, and it made her stomach churn. Of course, mothers could sense these things, could feel when something wasn't right, and Doña Esperanza had resolved to put an end to whatever spell this healer had cast over her daughter.

Her suspicions were immediately confirmed later that morning.

As she sat at the breakfast table, sipping coffee that had grown bitter from neglect, a knock at the door broke the silence. The house helper entered with a bundle of letters wrapped in brown paper, carefully sealed.

"Who are these for?" Doña Esperanza asked, her fingers already itching to tear through the envelopes.

"These are addressed to Señorita Trinidad, Doña," the helper replied, handing her the letters.

Doña Esperanza's fingers lingered on the bundle as her curiosity drilled into her brain. Why would the sisters from the convent send multiple letters to her daughter?

As she unfastened the knot and slid open the first envelope, her heartbeat quickened. Her eyes scanned the delicate script. But as she read the words, it felt as if cold water had been poured down her spine. Her hands trembled slightly. The words clung to her in the most condescending way.

13th May 1895

Beloved Trinidad,

Nights are cold now that you are gone, and the days stretch longer than they ever did when you were here. It's difficult now...I feel so alone here in the convent. I miss the warmth of your presence. All I can think about is the void you left.

I remember you in everything. Even the simplest things feel difficult now.

There are moments when I close my eyes and imagine you beside me, your hand slipping into mine, the softness of your voice calling my name. It is cruel, this longing—how you have left me here alone.

But I couldn't blame you. We both knew it was bound to happen. This relationship we had was going nowhere, and I should probably get married, too. Just so I can forget you... But, I cannot help but ask if you still think of me as well. I haven't received any letters from you. By the way, we have started a new program here for the children. I'm sure if you were here, you would love this new activity.

I long for the day when we can be together again. Until then, know that my heart beats for you, and my thoughts are with you always. I know I did not say goodbye properly... it's just that losing you is very difficult to bear.

With all my love,

Rosa de la Cruz

As Doña Esperanza read through the letter, the weight of each word felt heavier than the last.

"Beloved Trinidad... My love?" she gasped.

The letter spoke of longing, of nights filled with yearning, and a love that should never have been. Her breath caught in her throat, and she let the letter slip from her fingers, fluttering softly to the floor.

The Doña's mind raced as she remembered Padre Enrique's sermon and how Trinidad had reacted differently. Her only daughter, raised with the teachings of the Church, had fallen into something sinful, something unnatural. And although Rosa de la Cruz was far away now, another had taken her place—it was clear, painfully clear now. All those uneasy glances she had ignored, the strange tension in the air, it all made sense. Her precious child had been led astray.