Margarita arrived running at the bus stop.

A crowd blocked her view of whatever everyone was staring at. Their eyes were glued to the ground, captivated.

A pair of police officers directed traffic, waving at the cars that slowed down to catch a glimpse of what had happened.

"Move along! Move along! There's nothing to see here!"

But there was.

Amidst the commotion, on the ground, Isidro clutched at three holes in his stomach while blood, unrestrained, poured freely from his body.

Two officers extended their arms, trying to keep the crowd at bay, attempting to give him some air to breathe. The people stared at him, talked to him, but it was as if Isidro couldn't comprehend. Some neighbors told him they'd gone to fetch Margarita; others asked him about his attacker. He just stared back, bewildered, struggling to get up but having forgotten how.

He writhed like a newborn lamb, helpless in a pool of blood and mud, his eyes dull and pitiful, the eyes of someone who doesn't understand—of someone who can do nothing.

The group that had gone to find Margarita arrived, and the police officers made way for them.

"Are you his wife?"

What a stupid question—she hadn't even been able to confirm it was Isidro.

"Yes," she said.

They cleared a path for her; the onlookers stepped back. On the ground, she found Isidro, reduced to a wretched heap. She swallowed back a cry—out of respect, or pity—and knelt beside him.

In the distance, the ambulance's siren wailed.

She didn't know what to say to her husband. Suddenly, he broke into sobs.

Margarita lost focus again, as if a thought had taken hold of her: "And Luisito?"

"Where's Luisito?"

Isidro didn't answer, but his gaze said it all.

Margarita stood up and scanned the crowd, craning her neck and lifting her face.

There were too many people, too many vehicles, too much noise.

"LUIS!"

The crowd, gathered tightly around Isidro, seemed to understand the situation. They began to search among themselves, stepping aside to give Margarita room to look.

"LUIS!"

The officers, catching on, started looking for children in the area.

"There's one over there! Ma'am, is that your son?"

"LUIS!"

By the time the ambulance arrived, Margarita was consumed by anguish, and Isidro lay lifeless on the ground.