When the sun comes out between the mountains of the sierra, the whole countryside is resplendent. The birds chirp and the grass is damp. The air is clear and everything seems calmer. Before breakfast, I go outside my house and I take a deep breath. I sit on a bench that my father made before he went to make his fortunes in another land. But he hasn’t returned. My mom has already a new husband. I don’t like him at all. Because at night he asks me to touch him. No one sees, or hears, and the mountains never tell. And it hurts. It hurts a lot.