“My grandmother taught me,” she said, cheeks warming. “It wasn’t considered a suitable hobby for a lady. But I loved it.”
“Perhaps we can learn from each other,” she offered.
That was the first agreement they forged without paperwork. It would not be the last.
The Desert’s School: Purpose, Confidence, Healing
Days found their rhythm. Tlacael tended to fields, repaired tools, and consulted with nearby families. Jimena swept, cooked, and reorganized the little kitchen until it worked like a heartbeat. Mornings they harvested from the scrub—yarrow, prickly pear, sage. Afternoons they simmered poultices and tinctures, filling the home with the clean scent of plants releasing their gifts.
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