Two years later

Estefania's P.O.V.

Mom always told me that I would grow up to be a strong and noble woman. That my weaknesses always made me stronger. She always said that I got more and more beautiful by the day. Sometimes I doubted it, but others I praised it. She says that I was a grown up, mature little six year old.

But what I still didn't understand was why my mama and papa have all the great stuff and I'm just a regular human being. I remember my mom explaining why but it still didn't make sense. I looked nothing like her. We were almost like opposites in my opinion. "Mom, how come you and dad are the special ones? It's not fair that I get absolutely nothing. I want to be like you," I said defensively.

"You're like me. You look more and more like me everyday," she replied.

"But you look so beautiful and graceful. I'm not like that," I said looking down. I always wished to be like my mama. I always looked up to her and her beauty.

"Of course you are. I see you from the outside and you look beautiful. You have natural beauty."

"You would say that because you're my mom. Tell me the truth," I said defensively once again.

"I wouldn't tell you something that isn't true just because I'm your mom. Have I ever lied to you?" she asked.

"No," I said softly while looking down.

"That's your answer," she said straightening her back.

"But you look so different from me. I look in the mirror and I don't see you. I just see a reflection of me," I spoke sadly.

"You aren't looking hard enough," she said. With that, she left.