She'd decided the night before, at two o'clock in the morning, in between sobs. She'd decided that on that very Wednesday, she would cross the street and knock on the door and wait for someone to open it. And if there was nobody home, she would sit on the porch and wait. There was a rocking chair next to the door, she could sit there. And when they would get home and asked what she was doing there, she would say it: she would say that her name was Cecilia Flores and that she wanted her father back.
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