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The contrast between the poor and the wealthy in this chapter is honestly one of the things I admire most about your writing. Alejandro is sitting in a park with his paints, trying to preserve this tiny, fragile world of his, while somewhere behind closed doors people with castles, empires, foundations, and powerful lawyers are deciding what his future is worth. And the terrifying part is how normal that world feels. It does not read like a fantasy of wealth. It feels deeply European, especially in the way old money, inherited privilege, aristocratic connections, and social power can exist alongside ordinary people who have almost no leverage at all. You captured that class divide with so much subtlety that I almost forgot I was reading fiction. This is genuinely excellent writing.
