I woke up in the clinic bed. It was big, it had about six pillows, but it was not comfortable.

The whole world was no longer comfortable. I constantly felt the need to remove the patch over my eye to see, but it would do no good, because I no longer had an eye.

My mom was off to the side, sleeping in an armchair. I remembered her desperate screams from the day before. I remembered the hundreds of arms grabbing me, moving me, holding my face so I wouldn't leak more blood than I could lose. I remembered the dozens of voices, one on top of the other, barking orders, asking nervous questions.

But at that moment nothing could be heard except my mom's breathing, nothing was moving apart from my legs on the bed.

For an instant I forgot what had brought me there. For an instant I was happy, immersed in my misery. For an instant I thought the worst thing that had happened to me was losing an eye. Then I remembered him.

I had a feeling that at any moment he would walk through the door and play a joke on me, maybe start talking to me like a pirate or make a bomb pun. That projection made me laugh, but I was already crying, and longing to see him only made it worse.

I looked at my hands. I remembered the moment I held him with those hands, his neck twisted, his incurable wound. It didn't feel real, I didn't want it to. There was something wrong with all that. I had the feeling that I could still do something to see him again, like he was just hiding. I knew I would never be able to talk to him again, but I couldn't shake the idea.

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The doctors told me that I had lost my eye completely, but that I was lucky to be saved. A few more centimeters, and the piece of glass would have pierced my brain.

I was visited by almost all the relatives I knew, including some aunts I didn't remember, but who seemed very close to my mom. I liked seeing them, but I would have liked it better if they hadn't turned up. I didn't want to see anyone, I didn't want to have to think about what to talk about or answer the same questions over and over again to everyone who showed up. It was irritating, and in a week they would have forgotten all about it.

I was also visited by my classmates, several of them, more than I expected. They're visits were shorter than my relatives', appearing in large groups and staying only for a few minutes. They all spoke softly and gave me hopeful smiles, but deep down I sensed they were sad, and I didn't need to ask why. No one needed to say, it was obvious. The class had lost its heart. We had nothing left but to drift and wait to dissolve. We were weak, tired, dejected.

I was also visited by Ocko's best friends. He had many friends in the class, in the level, in the whole school, almost everyone knew him. It was irritating even in death, but it was comforting to know that there were more people going through something similar. I was not the only one.

Galica burst into tears as soon as she saw me. Pekos stared at the ground most of the time, unable even to finish sentences. Troveto could speak, but he seemed hypnotized. He looked into my eyes, but was lost in the walls, the cushions, the sky, whatever. He kept talking, but it didn't seem like he was there.

We didn't talk much. It was strange, I wanted to see them, I wanted to be with them, but at the same time I couldn't bear the thought of confronting them. I think it was because our conversation would drift to Ocko immediately, or at least it did in our heads. We were silent for a long time to avoid mentioning it, without managing to talk to each other.

Maybe it just wasn't a good time to talk. But I thanked them for visiting anyway.

Finally, the one person I didn't want to see showed up.

It was about five o'clock in the afternoon. I was reading a book my mother had brought me. I had already read it two years ago and remembered almost all the events, but having nothing better to do, I read it anyway. It was weird to read with only one eye. I was constantly trying to focus on the letters, only to remember that I couldn't anymore.

Then she arrived. She knocked on the door like everyone else, we invited her in, and she nervously peeked in. When I saw her, I burst out.

She came in with a sad look on her face. She was accompanied by a man, I didn't get a good look at him, but I think it was her dad. I didn't care.

-Go away- I ordered Erica, before my mom could finish saying hi.

They all turned to me with a confused look on their faces. Of course they didn't expect to be rejected immediately, but I wasn't going to tolerate their presence so easily, not so soon.

-What?- she asked, as if she hadn't heard.

-Go away!- I exclaimed.

I jumped out of bed. The IV bag wires fell on me, but I yanked them off and lunged at her. I had never been so angry with anyone, ever. I knew she could kill me, I knew about her eye for an eye principles, but I wasn't going to sit still. I slapped her in the face. She closed her eyes, but she didn't pull away. I think she did it on purpose. I continued to hit her.

-Go away, you wretch! You damned bitch! You murderer!- I shouted at her.

My voice broke, I started crying instantly. Erica didn't even fight back, she just took a step back with every blow I hit her. I continued slapping and shouting insults at her. I expected the man who was with her to stop us, but he just stared at me. My mom told me to stop, then rounded the bed to restrain me. By that moment Erica couldn't take it anymore and ran out the door.

My mom held me down and scolded me. Then she apologized to the man.

Despite the tears blurring my vision, I looked at him, puzzled. For a moment I thought he had frozen in surprise, but when I gave him another look, I realized that he was totally relaxed, even smiling calmly.

-Please forgive her- my mother said in a trembling voice- she is traumatized by her injury. She has suffered a lot lately.

-Don't worry- said the man.

Then he looked at me. Despite what I had done to his daughter, he didn't look angry. In fact, he seemed satisfied for some reason, but I had no idea why.

-You're Raquel, the dancer, aren't you? Erica has told me a lot about you- he said, his smile grew wide- I can tell she likes you.

-What? What are you talking about?- I pleaded.

-Well, you're still here- he said- I think we both know what I'm talking about. But it won't be like this forever. Until the end of the year, try to take a little more care of yourself.

He paused. I think he expected me to answer in some way, but I didn't manage to say anything. I was paralyzed by what he had just said. "You're still here", "Erica didn't kill you", as if not killing me was a sign of affection.

I was so stunned that I didn't notice when he took my hand. Suddenly I caught him examining my arm. I looked at it too; I noticed blood running from a fingernail. A small wound that must have come from hitting Erica. It didn't hurt much, probably because of the adrenaline I was feeling at the time. I tried to pull my hand away, but he wouldn't let go.

-What are you doing?- I pleaded.

I pulled harder, but he didn't even flinch, not letting go of my hand no matter how hard I pulled. In a slow gesture he covered my fingers, as if we were close friends.

-Hey!- I exclaimed.

I tried to grab his hands with my free one and pulled, but I couldn't even move him an inch. It was like he was made of rock. I know I was just a weakened girl against a big man, but still, using all my weight I should have moved his fingers at least a little.

-You're very impetuous- he commented, in a gentle tone- it wouldn't do you any harm to learn to be more patient, like Erica.

After saying this, he let go of me. I picked up my hand, angry. I was about to tell him that I was going to call security, when I examined it, and noticed something strange: there was no more blood.

I looked at all my fingers. I couldn't quite remember which one I had injured, although I suspected it was the middle left one. However, it was as good as new. All my fingers were.

-How...- I pleaded.

I looked up again, wanting an explanation, but he had already picked up his coat and was heading for the door.

-Wait!

He turned to me. For some reason, his calm smile irritated me. I think it was because it made him look like he had the answers to the universe hidden away. I get irritated by people who think they are superior to others.

-What was that? I had an injury!- I pleaded.

-Are you sure?- he replied.

I showed him my hand.

-What did you just do?!

He sighed, disappointed.

-Life is more entertaining if you leave some things as unsolved mysteries, you know?

-Tell me- I demanded.

He scratched his neck sparingly.

-Magic- he replied- What else could it be?

I pressed my lips together in frustration. I realized he wasn't going to answer that. But it wasn't the last question I had for him.

-Where did Erica get her strength from?- I asked.

-Mmm? It's in her genes.

-But then... Then you have the same problem as her, don't you?

-Problem?

-That she hurts people, or is it not the same for you?

Then Mr. Sanz grinned from ear to ear.

-Yes, all the time. The difference is that she cares.

I was so taken aback by his answer that I didn't notice when he left and closed the door behind him. When I turned around, I found my mom, who was looking at me curiously.

-What is that about hurting people?- she asked.

I put a hand to my head, stressed. I didn't want to believe that Erica's dad had told the truth, but his smug expression, his way of answering, everything about him told me that what he was saying was exactly the truth.

So Erica's strength came from genes. That sounded like a fantasy, but I guess her strength was already supernatural anyway. Worse, her dad didn't seem to have any intention of slowing her down.

I also remembered how Erica healed her wounds overnight. She had told us about an injury she got in a school trip. These school trips usually happen far away from the parents. That was one of the few instances in which her wound did not heal overnight, away from her dad.

So Erica's ability to heal was not her own, but her dad healing her using whatever trick he called "magic".

Incomparable strength and medical "magic" more advanced than any contemporary procedure. Erica had both. I realized that to protect my school, my classmates and myself, I would have to take the initiative.

Of course, my parents already knew that a girl had been guilty of killing Solis and Ocko, my mom was surprised that it was the "sweet girl" that I had slapped, but after finding out, she praised me and told me that I had been very brave. Thank you, mom.

She and my dad agreed that I should change schools, but I didn't accept their decision. I didn't want to run away, not from Ocko's killer. Somehow I would find justice, make her run away, force her to face her crimes.

Erica might be strong, but she was only one girl.