waiting for that hour, because
if she had not been able to
conceive the ultimate obstacle
to Rebecas wedding, she was
sure that at the last moment,
when all the resources of her
imagination had failed, she
would have the courage to
poison her. That afternoon,
while Rebeca was suffocating
with heat inside the armor of
thread that Amparo Moscote
was putting about her body
with thousands of pins and
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