For years, the residents of the small town of San Esteban remembered Doña Elvira as a kind, hardworking woman loved by all. A long-time widow, she lived alone in the old family home, a wooden building surrounded by fruit trees that had belonged to several generations.
Her only son, Adrian, hardly appeared in the village. After moving to the city, visits became increasingly scarce. At first I would call on the phone from time to time, but over time even that disappeared.
When the doctors reported that Elvira was suffering from an advanced illness and that her condition would worsen







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