The Ashes That Bind Us

Chapter 1: “The Broken Bridge”

The Approaching Storm

Daniel Mena felt the change in air pressure before he saw the clouds. He was kneeling on the dirt floor of his workshop, sharpening a knife with precise, angry strokes. Each scrape of the whetstone against the blade was a thought of vengeance, honed to a razor’s edge.

“Gonna rain hard,” he muttered, lifting his gaze to the foggy little window.

His workshop was more of a shack than a proper workplace, built with uneven planks and roofed with zinc sheets that groaned with every gust of wind. But it was his—paid for with the sweat of his hands and the anger that kept him standing night after night.

The first downpour fell like divine punishment, hammering the roof with such force that Daniel had to raise his voice to hear himself:

“Good. Let it all flood.”

Luciana and the Honey Cookies

Luciana was counting the cracks in her bedroom ceiling when the scent of cinnamon and honey pulled her from her daydream. Grandma Marta was baking again, despite the pain in her joints and the cough that wouldn’t let her sleep.

“Girl,” the old woman called in her raspy voice, “go to the store and bring me more honey. These cookies won’t taste right without that sweet touch.”

Luciana nodded silently, pocketing the few coins her grandmother handed her. Before leaving, the old woman draped an oversized raincoat over her shoulders, one that reached her ankles.

“Don’t dawdle,” Grandma Marta warned. “The sky looks like it wants to cry today.”

The Collapse

Valentina was the first to notice the rising river. From her window, she watched the brown waters carrying branches and debris, pounding with increasing force against the wooden bridge’s pillars—the only connection between Pueblo Viejo and the rest of the world.

“It won’t hold,” she murmured, tightening her grip on the cup.

In the town square, neighbors began gathering, exchanging worried glances and theories about how long the storm would last. Don Ramón, the shop owner, insisted it was nothing compared to the hurricane of ’85, while the young teacher newly arrived from the city watched the sky with growing alarm.

Daniel listened to the chatter from his workshop doorway without joining in. His eyes unconsciously scanned the crowd, as if searching for someone in particular. When the first plank of the bridge tore away with a crack audible even over the rain’s roar, his body tensed like a coiled spring.

The Rescue

Luciana was halfway across the bridge when the structure began to give way. She had delayed her return, stopping to watch the turbulent waters carry away leaves and small branches. The packet of cookies Don Ramón had given her for Grandma Marta was carefully wrapped in plastic, safe from the rain.

The bridge’s first violent shudder sent her to her knees. The second, more brutal, left her dangling from a broken railing, her legs swinging over the raging river.

Her scream was swallowed by the storm’s thunder—but Daniel heard it. As if something inside him had been alerted, he sprinted toward the river with a speed he didn’t know he possessed, arriving just as the bridge’s last supports collapsed.

“Hold on!” he roared, throwing himself onto what remained of the platform and stretching his arm toward the girl.

Their fingers met in midair for an instant that felt eternal. Daniel felt Luciana’s small weight in his grip just as the rest of the bridge vanished beneath the waters.

The Encounter

Valentina arrived at the scene panting, having watched everything from a distance. Her heart pounded—not just from running, but at the sight of the girl now trembling in the blacksmith’s arms.

“Give her to me,” she ordered, reaching out without thinking.

Daniel eyed her distrustfully, unconsciously tightening his hold on Luciana.

“What’s it to you, teacher?”

The title sounded like an insult. Valentina felt the old pain resurface but kept her arms outstretched.

“I know her. She’s Marta’s granddaughter—the sick woman. She has no one else.”

Luciana looked back and forth between the two adults, her breathing still ragged from fright. The packet of cookies, now soaked, dripped honey between her small fingers.

The Realization

They all understood it at the same time. With the bridge destroyed and the rain turning the roads into impassable mud, they were trapped. Not just in the town—but in something deeper, more personal.

Valentina saw in Daniel’s eyes the same fear she felt: the fear of having to care for someone again. Of becoming important to someone. Of having something to lose.

Daniel, in turn, recognized something in Valentina’s protective gaze toward Luciana that enraged him without reason. Something that reminded him of everything he had lost.

And Luciana—the quiet Luciana who never spoke more than necessary—felt for the first time in a long while that maybe, just maybe, she wasn’t entirely alone in the world.

The Storm Rages On

The rain didn’t let up. The three took shelter in the old schoolhouse, the sturdiest building in town. Valentina lit candles while Daniel secured the broken windows. Luciana sat in a corner, watching the honey from her cookies mix with rainwater on the wooden floor, forming tiny golden rivers that disappeared between the cracks.

Outside, the river kept rising, carrying away pieces of the bridge, tree branches, and the secrets Pueblo Viejo had kept for so long.

Inside, three hearts began—unknowingly—to beat in unison. Not out of love, not yet. But out of that strange solidarity born when the outside world vanishes, leaving only what’s essential: the human need not to face the storm alone.

Chapter 2: “The Flames That Won’t Die”

1. The Abandoned Schoolhouse

The wind howled through the cracks of the old school, stealing the warmth from the candles Valentina had lit. Luciana had fallen asleep in a corner, wrapped in a threadbare blanket that smelled of dust and old chalk. Her small fists still clutched the ruined cookie package like an irreplaceable treasure.

Valentina watched Daniel from across the room. He kept staring out the broken window as if expecting to see something—or someone—in the storm.

“What happened at the bridge?” Valentina asked, breaking the silence that had grown between them like weeds.

Daniel didn’t turn.

“What it looked like. It collapsed.”

“I wasn’t talking about the bridge.”

His jaw tightened. He knew exactly what she meant.

2. Ghosts of the Past

(Flashback – Daniel, 10 Years Earlier)

The smell of smoke had woken him. By the time he opened his eyes, flames were already licking the walls of his home. He screamed for his mother, for his little sister, but only received the crackling of wood surrendering to fire in response.

Outside, amid the chaos of neighbors and makeshift firefighters, he saw a man walking away. He carried a bottle in his hand.

And he was smiling.

3. Confessions by Candlelight

“It was a fire,” Valentina said suddenly, as if she’d read Daniel’s thoughts. “Five years ago. The school was full.”

Daniel finally looked at her.

“Were you there?”

“I was the teacher.”

A heavy silence fell between them. Luciana stirred in her sleep, murmuring unintelligible words.

“How many?” Daniel asked, though he wasn’t sure he wanted to know the answer.

Valentina closed her eyes.

“Nineteen children. My daughter among them.”

4. The Name That Burned

“His name is Rojas,” Daniel spat. “Emilio Rojas.”

Valentina went pale as if struck.

“That’s my last name.”

“I know,” Daniel said, and for the first time, his voice sounded weary rather than furious. “That’s why I avoided you all these years. Thought you might be family.”

Valentina stood so fast her chair toppled backward.

“He was my husband.”

The air grew thick. Luciana woke with a start, sensing the tension even half-asleep.

5. Truth Like a Knife

“It was an accident,” Valentina whispered. “He didn’t mean to—”

“You know what he told me when I found him three years ago?” Daniel interrupted, baring his teeth in something that wasn’t quite a smile. “‘I got the wrong house.'”

Valentina brought a hand to her mouth. Luciana, now fully awake, looked back and forth between the adults, holding her breath.

“Where is he now?” Valentina asked, her voice breaking.

Daniel leaned against the wall, closing his eyes.

“Dead. I killed him.”

6. The Remaining Ashes

Luciana broke the silence with a sob. Valentina moved to hug her instinctively, but the girl pulled away, running for the door.

“Luciana, no!” Valentina shouted, but it was too late.

The child disappeared into the storm.

Daniel was already on his feet, cursing under his breath.

“What have you done?” Valentina spat at him, tears of rage streaming down her face.

“The same as you,” he shot back, grabbing her arm. “Survived.”

7. The Search

They rushed into the torrential rain, calling Luciana’s name between lightning strikes. Valentina stumbled in the mud, but Daniel caught her before she fell.

“There!” he pointed.

Between the trees, they saw Luciana’s small silhouette running toward the swollen river.

“She’s trying to cross!” Valentina screamed.

They ran as if hell itself chased them.

8. Fire in the Storm

They reached Luciana at the water’s edge. The river had taken most of the bridge, but a few planks remained miraculously connected.

“Don’t,” Valentina begged. “It’s too dangerous.”

“I want my grandma,” Luciana cried. “She doesn’t know where I am.”

Daniel approached slowly.

“We’ll take you when the storm passes.”

“You’re liars!” the girl screamed. “You both lie all the time!”

Lightning flashed, revealing what none had noticed before: on the opposite shore, barely visible through the rain, a column of smoke rose.

“My God,” Valentina whispered. “That’s Marta’s house.”

9. The Decision

Daniel didn’t hesitate.

“Stay with her,” he ordered Valentina, and before anyone could stop him, he jumped onto the unstable remains of the bridge.

“Daniel!” Valentina screamed, but he was already crossing, balancing precariously over the raging waters.

Luciana clung to Valentina, trembling.

“Will he be okay?”

Valentina had no answer.

10. What the Fire Takes

From the opposite shore, Daniel looked back at them for just a moment before sprinting toward the burning house. Valentina watched his silhouette disappear into the smoke, and for the first time in years, she prayed.

Luciana buried her face in Valentina’s embrace, and together, in the unrelenting rain, they waited.

Chapter 3: “What the River Carries Away”

1. The Crossing

Daniel’s boots slipped on the rain-slick planks as he navigated the skeleton of the broken bridge. Each step sent splinters of wood groaning in protest beneath his weight. The river roared below him, hungry and brown, carrying branches like broken bones in its current.

“I should let it take me,” he thought for one dizzying moment.

Then he heard the scream.

Not Luciana’s—this was the raw, guttural cry of an old woman trapped by flames. Marta.

He ran.

2. Valentina’s Vigil

On the opposite bank, Valentina clutched Luciana to her chest, the girl’s face buried against her rain-soaked blouse. She could feel the child’s heartbeat—rabbit-fast and fragile—against her own.

“Will he bring her back?” Luciana asked, the words muffled.

Valentina watched the smoke curl into the storm-dark sky. She remembered another fire, another vigil. The way the schoolhouse beams had groaned before collapsing. The terrible silence afterward.

“Yes,” she lied smoothly.

3. The Burning House

The heat hit Daniel first—a physical wall that singed his eyelashes. Through the doorway, he saw Marta crumpled near the kitchen, her nightdress already smoldering. The fire danced across dried herbs hanging from the rafters, transforming them into cascades of tiny embers.

He didn’t think.

Grabbing the old woman was like lifting a bundle of kindling—all brittle bones and no weight. The ceiling groaned as he staggered back toward daylight, Marta’s breath wheezing against his neck.

Then the world exploded in pain.

4. The Missing Plank

Valentina saw it before it happened.

Daniel was halfway back across the broken bridge when the central support gave way. One second he was there—Marta’s limp form in his arms—the next, the river swallowed them both.

Luciana’s shriek tore through the storm.

Valentina moved without thought. She’d been a strong swimmer once, before grief made her body heavy. Now she plunged into the current, the icy water stealing her breath.

“Not again. Not again.”

5. What the Water Reveals

The river tasted like mud and rust. Valentina’s hands found fabric—Marta’s nightgown—and she kicked toward the surface with the old woman in tow. Gasping, she spun in the churning water, searching.

There.

Daniel’s dark head bobbed downstream, his movements sluggish. Blood streaked his temple where the falling beam had struck him.

Valentina made her choice.

6. The Shore

Dragging Marta onto the bank felt like hauling the weight of every mistake she’d ever made. Luciana fell upon her grandmother, sobbing. Across the river, Daniel’s body washed up on a sandbar, motionless.

Valentina pressed her ear to Marta’s lips.

A whisper of breath.

She turned to Luciana. “Stay with her.” Then she was back in the water.

7. The Truth in the Shallows

Daniel wasn’t breathing when she reached him.

Valentina remembered the CPR training she’d gotten as a teacher—how she’d never had to use it that day at the school. Her palms pressed into his sternum, counting compressions as rain streamed down her face.

“Live. Goddamn you, live.”

On the fifth compression, he convulsed, river water spewing from his lips. His eyes flew open, wild and unseeing at first. Then they focused on her face.

“Why?” he rasped.

She wiped blood from his brow with a trembling hand. “Because we don’t get to choose who drowns.”

8. The Ashes Between Them

By nightfall, the rain stopped.

They built a fire on the sandbar—Daniel leaning heavily against a driftwood log, Valentina wringing water from her hair, Luciana curled like a comma against Marta’s slowly rising chest.

Daniel poked at the flames. “Rojas didn’t smile when he died.”

Valentina stilled.

“I waited three years to kill him,” he continued, “but when I finally did it, he just looked… relieved.”

The fire popped, sending up a spiral of sparks.

Valentina thought of the empty liquor bottles she’d hidden for years. The way Emilio would cry after setting fires, begging her to forgive him.

“I know,” she said softly.

9. What They Carried

At dawn, they fashioned a stretcher for Marta from branches and Daniel’s shirt. As they crossed the newly calmed river—Luciana guiding them to stable stones—Valentina realized something had shifted.

Not healed. Not forgiven.

But lighter, somehow.

Daniel caught her looking. “What?”

She adjusted her grip on the stretcher. “We’ll need to rebuild the bridge.”

He nodded toward Luciana, who walked ahead with the solemn dignity of a child who’d aged ten years in one night. “Got a pretty good foreman.”

10. What the River Left Behind

The next morning, workers from the neighboring town arrived with ropes and fresh lumber. Valentina stood at the water’s edge, watching them measure the gap.

A small hand slipped into hers.

“You came back for him,” Luciana said. Not a question.

Valentina squeezed her fingers. “I came back for all of us.”

Up on the ridge, Daniel hammered the first new plank into place. The sound echoed across the water like a heartbeat.