But one night, a moth flew in through a crack in the window frame.
She opened it.
Vivir sin miedo — to live without fear .
The moth did not answer. It only kept hitting the glass.
The hallway smelled of coffee from the neighbor she’d never met. The elevator groaned like an old animal. Outside, the sun was not gentle—it was aggressive, almost rude, pressing against her skin like a question. Are you sure?
The moth was gone.
She took one step. Then another.