That night, Luzia stays awake in the Casa Ordoño larder with a stolen candle, rattled by how quickly her brief taste of freedom and attention has turned dangerous. Convinced the red-bearded man at the party was an informer, she imagines the Inquisition coming for her and the likely end: prison, torture, and execution for heresy or witchcraft.

Preparing to flee Madrid, Luzia packs everything she owns—food, an extra set of linen, and a few coins—lamenting how little she has to anchor her life. She plans to ask Hualit for help and hopes her aunt can advance money by selling Valentina’s pearl earring, since Luzia lacks proper shoes or a warm coat for travel.

At dawn, Luzia leaves as if for the market so she won’t look like she is running, then heads toward San Ginés and on to Hualit’s home without stopping for mass or confession. As she walks, she thinks about her family’s hidden Jewish past, the violence of forced conversion, and her father Afonso’s insistence that she learn to “see” secret histories in Madrid.

Luzia remembers Hualit teaching her coded sayings in a mixed, diaspora language—and the first time Luzia’s voice made dead flowers revive and new buds bloom. Hualit’s awe had been matched by fear, and she demanded to know where Luzia learned the melody, warning her to be careful.

Now, desperate and ashamed, Luzia goes to Hualit anyway, recognizing she has no protector and nowhere else to turn. Hualit pulls her inside immediately and hisses that Luzia has endangered them both; men’s voices and heavy boots echo in the courtyard, making it clear trouble has already arrived.