Morning prayers again. I just repeat what I am told. When there is something to ask for, my mind is empty. I don't feel qualified to ask for anything.

Although my mood is a little better Should I be so cheerful? Not that I'm hopping on one leg, but anything beats not wanting to get out of bed. Maybe my bar is set too low, or maybe not.

But everything seems calm.

Or so you'd like to think.

Or so I'd like to think. I'm hot, and it has nothing to do with the weather.

Suddenly they all look prettier, and among them, Raquel stands out the most. Every simple action she does, from lifting a small glass to drink water, to a few tiny drops trickling down her cheek and wiping them away, to stretching and sighing a little, with such a tender voice.

I need to wet my face a little, with cool water if possible.

“Sharon, do you have a moment?”

If I wanted a little distraction, I got what I asked for. That voice comes from the headmistress. I nod and she gestures me to follow her to her office.

We pass through the dining room. My peers' gazes turn to me. Again, the same old story.

What the fuck are they staring at so much?

“Can I help you?” I stand up abruptly, facing the stares. Embarrassment hits me right away, but it feels good to confront them. It feels so good it's worth it. It feels so good that I forget the headmistress is leading me to her office.

Even Mama Penguin herself seems surprised by my attitude. She stops in her tracks to turn around. She looks around too, meets the stares that seek to escape her eyes and mine. Cowards.

They remind me of my classmates. Some I thought were friends. Always with that faces, those eyes. If you have something to say, then say it, why hold it back?  I can feel a reflux coming out of my stomach, burning my chest and then my throat. I wish it was today's food, so I could throw it on the floor, or on the table, to ruin the lunch they just had. But it's not vomit, it's something more disgusting. Maybe it's that cursed voice that keeps drilling into my head. I hold it in, if it comes out, it's going to curse until next year.

It's the look on Raquel's face that brings me back to the real world. She comes out of the bedroom when she hears the commotion. She gives me a worried look. I wink at her.

The headmistress simply turns away and we continue on our journey. No one answers me, I do the same.

With reality back in my senses, the worry begins. Why would this woman take me to her office? Does she know something? Does she suspect something? Why come to the dorm yesterday? I don't think it's just for surveillance, she must be suspicious.  Maybe she noticed that some people disappear. Maybe a sister saw something. Maybe one of the girls saw something and talked. Who could it have been? Any of the sleepers? Maybe they were faking sleep.

Oh, for God's sake, shut your mouth at once.

Did God give her a vision?

Bearded snitch.

Stop it, that I won't let you say.

I don't feel bad. I just feel hot. It's unbearable. I'd like to take off this robe and walk around the place like God brought me into the world, to see if they're going to say anything to me, if they're going to dare to look at me like that.

We pass through the small opening of the dining room to the other place. To my left the small passageway to the temple. I can see part of the altar. And the last of the anger dissipates, yes, but then only the heat remains. The heat ten times worse, twenty times worse.

We reach our destination. In front of us, the door to this woman's office. She gets ready to open it, but the door locks.

“Miserable place.”

“Did you say something, Sharon?”

“Did I say something? No, I didn't say something.”

She looks at me puzzled. But she goes on with her work. After moving the door handle up, down, up again and pushing it to the side, she manages to open it. The headmistress breathes a sigh of relief mixed with some irritation. The price to pay for a broken lock.

Passing through the frame the fire gets worse. Like opening an oven and putting your head inside.

The place, as dilapidated as everything else, has a small desk in the back facing the door, a couple of pens and some papers on top. A school chair is the lady's big throne, on the side of the room seven of those metal filing cabinets that are almost my size, where she has to keep our information. I guess that's how she knows our names, since she never asked us anything. Behind the desk on the back wall, a window covered with thick bars the diameter of a coin and a curtain covering them. Above our heads a small light.

The headmistress offers me a little stool which she pulls out from the side of the room and sits down in her place. We face each other, separated by a desk. Now that I see it well, it is also a bit worn out.

I feel a little sleepy.

“Are you all right, Sharon?” The silence is broken.

“Don't you like my face?”

“Nothing wrong with it, my child, but it looks unhealthy.”

“It must be the heat.”

“You look like you have a fever.”

“Maybe it's because the boss of the place took me from among all the others and brought me to her office.”

“I admit it would have been better to ask a sister to bring you to me, but I needed to see you with some urgency.”

“What's troubling you, miss?”

“About yesterday.”

“This is a very convoluted way of apologizing to me.”

“I admit I was wrong, I didn't mean to make you cry like that. I'm very sorry. But I have to make sure.”

“Did I do something wrong?”

“That Raquel girl.”

“«That Raquel girl»”

“There's nothing going on between you two, is there?”

“I think she's the only friend I have, if that's what you're asking about.”

“I'm asking what you think of her.”

“That she's a very pretty girl.”

“In what way?”

“Are you really asking me this?”

“Answer me.”

“And if I refuse?”

“I need to know, or one of you will have to leave.”

“She has a beautiful face and very nice hair. Anything else?”

“That's my question.”

“Nothing else.”

“What contact have you had?”

Oh, what contact we could have!

“When she puts a hand on my shoulder, I feel safe, it's the touch of a friend. She also helps me stop crying when older girls bully me.”

“...”

“I'm not a lesbian, headmistress.”

“Have you thought about kissing her?”

I'd love to make love to her.

“How awful, what if we got pregnant?”

“¡...!”

“Is something wrong, headmistress?”

“... Answer me honestly, Sharon.”

“Of course.”

“Have any inappropriate thoughts crossed your mind?”

“The Lord helps me deal with any such thoughts.”

“Can you swear it by God?”

That face so stern, those eyes that feign anger.

“I swear it. I want to be a servant of the Lord, I need to be at peace with Him and with myself”

“You may go.”

I walk out the door, close it behind me, I want to head for the dining room.

And I carry the sun on my back.

You don't know what heat is until you experience it. The heat is not something you can look back on and catch all its splendor. When the heat is suffered, how incredible it would be to be able to calm it forever.

But it can never be soothed.