HIDDEN IN THE dolls’ house, Mercedes saw the woman go through the villa’s gates. Dressed in ghostly white, she advanced very slowly in a straight line, carrying a bunch of red roses. Mercedes smiled. She’d been waiting for her for days. Death, dressed in Pertegaz couture, at last visited Villa Mercedes before hell swallowed it up, leaving in its place a barren land where grass would never grow again, where wind would never blow.
She had climbed onto one of the windowsills in the dolls’ pavilion, where she’d been living since the staff abandoned the house, soon after the news of her father’s death. At first Doña Mariana, her father’s secretary, had tried to stop them, but that same evening some men dressed in black had come and dragged Doña Mariana away. Mercedes had heard gunshots behind the garages, but she didn’t want to go there and look. Over the next few nights they took away the paintings, the statues, the furniture, the clothes, the cutlery, and whatever else they fancied. They would arrive at sunset like a starving pack. They also took all the cars and destroyed the walls of the sitting rooms, looking for hidden treasures that they didn’t find. When there was nothing left, they went away and never returned.
One day she saw two police cars come in. With them came some of the bodyguards she remembered from her father’s security staff. For a moment she hesitated, wondering whether to go out and meet them, tell them everything that had happened, but when she saw them go up to her father’s workroom in the tower and loot everything inside it, she hid again among the dolls. There, among hundreds of figures that looked into the void with glass eyes, nobody found her. They abandoned the lady of the house to her fate after disconnecting the machines that preserved her in her state of eternal torment. She’d been howling for days, but still hadn’t died. Until that day.
That day Death was visiting Villa Mercedes, and soon Mercedes would have the ruins of the house all to herself. She knew that everyone had lied to her. She thought her father was alive and safe somewhere, and that as soon as he could, he’d return to her side. She knew, because Alicia had promised her. She had promised she would find her father.
*
When she saw Death walk up the stairs to the entrance of the house and step inside, Mercedes became doubtful. Perhaps she was mistaken. Perhaps that white figure she had taken for the Grim Reaper was only Alicia, who had come back to fetch her and take her to her father. It was the only thing that made sense. She knew Alicia would never abandon her.
She stepped out of the dolls’ pavilion and walked over to the main house. Inside, she heard footsteps on the first floor and ran up the stairs just in time to see the white figure go into the lady’s room. The stench filling the corridor was terrible. She covered her mouth and nose with her hand and walked up to the doorway. The figure in white was leaning like an angel over the lady’s bed. Mercedes held her breath. Then the figure took one of the pillows and, covering the lady’s face, pressed hard while her body shook with convulsions, until it lay still.
The figure turned around slowly, and Mercedes was seized by the iciest cold she had ever felt. She was wrong. It wasn’t Alicia.
Death, all dressed in white, approached her slowly and smiled. She offered Mercedes a red rose, which she accepted with trembling hands. “Do you know who I am?” she asked.
Mercedes nodded. Death embraced her with immense affection and gentleness. The young girl let herself be caressed, containing her tears.
“Shhh,” whispered Death. “Nobody is going to separate us ever again. Nobody will hurt us any more. We’ll always be together. With Mummy and Daddy. Always together. You and I . . .”