It was not a coincidence.
It was a living project. Prospero. Organized.
And at the main entrance, on a white wall, was a wooden sign:
Community Center The Second Root
I felt a chill.
“What... what is this place?” I muttered.
Esteban closed the door of the van gently.
It’s the place where I started again.
I turned to him, not understanding.
At that moment, an older man in a palm hat came out of the office and smiled when he saw us.
Don Stephen! They've already arrived.
Don Esteban.
Those two words hit me louder than any explanation.
The man approached, shook hands with my brother with genuine respect, not compassionately, not fear. Respect. Then he greeted Sofia and me.
“You must be your family. A lot of taste. I'm Julian, center manager. Your brother has told us a lot about you.
I could barely answer.
I looked around again. I saw two young men carrying sacks. One of them had tattoos on his arms and a scar on his eyebrow. The other limped slightly. Beyond that, a woman with a small child in her arms washed vegetables while another helped her. They all seemed busy, worthy, serene.
Esteban walked a few steps towards the crops and beckoned us to follow him.
“Years ago,” he said, without giving himself se
“The center has grown faster than we expected. We can no longer supply all orders with small carriers in the area. We need a formal company that is responsible for the distribution to Guadalajara, Zapopan and part of Michoacán.
I stared at him.
“What does that have to do with me?”
Julian smiled.
-Everything. His brother told us about his company for years. We know from the quality of your work, for your punctuality and for the way you treat people, that you would be the right person. If you agree, we want to sign a three-year supply and transportation contract with you.
I didn't breathe.
I couldn't.
Three years.
Enough to save my business. Enough to pay debt. Enough to get back on my feet.
I looked at Esteban.
“You... prepared this?”
He looked down for a moment, almost modestly.
“I just opened a door, like you did with me.
