I woke up to a face full of dirt and cold metal around my wrists. Sputtering and shaking my head, I tried to make sense of the strange situation.

It didn’t help my growing unease to hear one of the cousins, “Primo, I don’t think you hit him hard enough.”

The other, Juacinto I think, retorted hotly, “What you expect? Abuela says no shooting, no stabbing…what does that leave me to work with?!”

“Uh, guys…”

“Why you yelling at me? It’s not my fault you hit like a…”

“Guys. Can we discuss why I’m in a hole with…handcuffs? You put me in handcuffs?” They stopped, resting on their shovels, apparently grateful for any break.

Juacinto adjusted his bandana from out of his eyes and said quite politely, “Abuela says you are going to bring a great evil into the world…”

“And kill Lupita in the process,” his cousin added with a nod.

“So, we have to kill you,” Juacinto finished with a shrug, like it was the most natural thing in the world. And, information shared, they went back to burying me alive.