They had rented an apartment in the city center, in a new building on a very quiet street, nestled among cloistered convents. At night, the only sound was the bell calling the nuns to prayer. It was pleasant, very pleasant.

They were very young and very much in love. They had often talked about starting a family. They dreamed together about what their life would be like in the future when their children filled their lives and they, old, would still love each other as much as the first day. They imagined themselves hand in hand, strolling through life, their love evident. They had everything planned: first, they would enjoy their love in solitude, away from their families. Then, once they were settled, they would have their first child, then, two years later, their second, and then, who knows, perhaps more.

Everything was going according to plan. The apartment was bright and peaceful. They savored every moment, drinking in life in small sips, relishing it with delight, without haste, as if wanting to stop time.

They couldn't have been happier when the miracle happened: she was pregnant!

The tranquility that reigned in their home was shattered by a frenzy of activity. Juan didn't recognize his wife: the lazy girl who whispered words of love in his ear had become a lively young woman who never stopped organizing so that, as she said, everything would be perfect when the baby was born. He loved her as he couldn't imagine anyone being loved.

The months passed amidst lullabies, preparations, and nervous anticipation. Juan tried to finish his work early so he could go home and be with María. Sometimes he had to fulfill commitments in other cities, which displeased them both.

On one of those occasions, when the big day was almost here, Juan received orders from his boss to travel to visit a client and resolve a problem. He tried to get out of it, but he couldn't.

When he got home and told his wife, far from being angry, she tried to calm him down, assuring him there was no reason to worry.

The birth was due at the end of the month, so she hadn't objected to her husband leaving for Zaragoza that Monday. He assured her he would only be gone a couple of days, just enough time to finish this urgent task, which, according to his boss, would ensure customer loyalty and strengthen their trust in the company. These were difficult times for the country's economy; customer complaints kept pouring into the office, and the boss had threatened to reduce staff if they didn't improve their performance. It wasn't a matter of risking his job, especially now that the family was about to grow!

After dinner, they sat on the sofa as usual, embraced. The television was on, and they talked, whispered:

"Honey, I promise the work will only take me a couple of days, just enough time to get the program up and running. I'll be back on Wednesday."

"Okay, but promise me you won't let yourself get swayed like you always do."

"The gynecologist said there are two weeks left until the delivery, right?"

"Yes, my love, but I'm a little scared of being alone. You know I've never been like this, but now, being here, with no one... the delivery could come early, and I don't even want to think about it..."

"Honey, we were at the checkup yesterday, and everything was fine. There are no signs that what you're afraid of could happen. Are you not feeling well?"

There was a silence. She smiled, looked at her husband, and felt that she was worrying him with her attitude.

"No, no, don't worry, forget what I said. Go ahead and relax. I'll be fine."

The next day, very early, he got ready, kissed his wife, and carefully closed the door so as not to wake her, for she was sleeping peacefully.

Maria slept. In her sleep, she felt a light, intermittent breeze, as if someone were breathing near her face. She woke up, thinking it was Juan sleeping beside her. It was still dark. The room was pitch black. She remembered that Juan had to leave soon and for a moment thought he had overslept and would be late. She reached out to gently touch his face.

"Juan, Juan," she said in a honeyed voice.

But she didn't find Juan's face. There was no one there. When she touched the pillow where she thought she would find her husband's face, she noticed it was ice cold. A shiver ran through her. She lay back down and thought how foolish she was, that she hadn't realized he was gone.

She got up. Even though there was no reason to, she felt strange, uneasy.

The days passed, and Juan kept his promise. When he returned, she waited eagerly at the apartment door, as she always did, watching him walk down the long hallway until he reached her; then she would rush forward and hug and kiss him passionately.

Today, something was different. María was restless; she told him that she had felt unwell in his absence.

"Silly girl," he said. "That's because you can't live without me."

That very night, María went into labor, and the longed-for baby was born the next morning.

The new parents couldn't have been happier. They held him, kissed him, and counted his tiny fingers and toes over and over, marveling at their perfection. They laughed, they cried, all at once. They began to feel the weight of responsibility and the fear of not being able to cope with all the care such a tiny, dependent being required. Would they be able to care for him? Would anything happen to her?

Two days later, after being discharged, they left the clinic and, back home, felt immensely happy, though a little uneasy.

***

Maria lay in bed. She liked to sleep on her side, her right arm outstretched so that her hand, passing through the bars of the crib, could stroke the hand of her baby, who slept peacefully beside her.

How she loved that little being! Everything had changed for her from the moment she learned she was pregnant. She had dreamed of it since she was a child. Having a baby all to herself, caring for him, pampering him, was her life's purpose. No one knew this, not even her husband. It was a deep feeling that had been born within her the day she had visited a friend of her mother's in the hospital after she had given birth to a beautiful baby. It had become an obsession.

Now her dream had come true, but happiness hadn't arrived. She didn't know why, but a feeling of unease, of fear, overwhelmed her. She couldn't explain the reason, but she felt as if a strange presence inhabited the house and was approaching the child. How many times had she turned on the light, trembling and barely able to breathe, with the feeling that someone else was in the room!

She wasn't sleeping, she wasn't eating, and her sickly appearance alarmed her husband, who, after much arguing with her about the possibility of seeing a specialist, managed to take her to the doctor for an examination, to make sure that everything was alright. The doctor, after talking with her and running some tests, assured her that everything was normal, that being a first-time mother was the cause of her nervousness, and that everything would return to normal with time.

They went back home. Because of his job, he had to travel and be away for a few days, despite the young woman's protests, as she didn't feel strong enough to stay alone at home with the baby.

Nothing could be done to prevent her husband's absence, as he didn't want to risk his job, and it would have been in jeopardy had he refused.

He left early in the morning, and she said goodbye with a loving kiss and a smile meant to reassure him.

She lay back down, looked at her baby, took his little hand, and tried to fall asleep again. A warm drowsiness washed over her. Suddenly, she felt something like a "click" in her brain. Relaxation gave way to irrational tension; her hair stood on end; a chill ran through her as a stench filled the room, as if the door to a room full of rotting meat had been opened…

Horrified, she reached out to touch the baby's little hand, but no matter how much she moved it among the crib sheets, she couldn't find it. The baby wasn't there! He had disappeared!

***

What had happened was never discovered. The police investigation was unable to solve the case, which continues to be of interest to the press. The possibility of kidnapping, even parricide, was investigated, but no clues emerged to shed light on the events.

No one had forced the door lock. The windows were untouched, and there was no sign that anyone had opened them. The husband was in another city, and the young woman, after examination and observation, was cleared of all suspicion. She never recovered from the loss.

***

One day, while chatting with her mother about trivial things, her mother said:

"Maria, do you remember that time I took you to the hospital to visit a friend who had just had a baby?"

"Yes, Mom."

"Poor thing, what a sad life she had!"

"Why? What happened to her?"

"Her baby only lived a few hours; in fact, it died while we were there. You didn't realize because I took you out of the room right away."

"I don't remember any of that, only that I thought it was so precious that from that moment on I wanted one for myself."

"The baby died, and my friend went mad. They put her in a convent. They say she kept shouting, 'Someday I'll have my own child!'"

"What a shame...! And which convent was she in?"

"In the one next to your house. She died and was buried there, in a small cemetery in the convent garden. The wall of your room bordered that garden…."