Elena couldn't resist the urge to go back up to the attic again after dinner.

After looking around to make sure no one was watching her, she carefully climbed up the steps, trying not to make any sound. When she opened the door, she looked over her shoulder once more before finally slipping inside. She crawled over to the spot where she'd pushed it the day before. She sat against the wall and opened the box once again, setting aside the notes she'd already read and grabbing out four new ones. Satisfied, Elena started to read them.

Imelda,

I hate to do this, but I extended the trip for three more weeks. Ernesto wanted it. And at least we'll get a reward for our performances. I won't extend it any longer, mi amor. Just three more weeks and that's all. Besides, I don't know how much longer I can deal with Ernesto's behavior. He's upset because we didn't get payed as much as we were supposed to for our last concert. I think the sooner we leave, the better if this keeps up. Te amo, Imelda. Remember: I'm doing this for you.

Elena's gaze lingered on those last few words. She ran her finger over them as her mind raced. She slowly set the note aside, picked up the second one, and began to read.

Lo siento, mi amor. We were invited to perform in a few more cities. I don't think I'll make it home in time for Coco's birthday, even though I really want to. I'm sorry. At the very least, though, I should be home in time for Día de los Muertos. I will try to be home by then, but I don't know. Tell Coco that her papá wishes her a happy birthday.

Something squeezed inside of Elena as she read, and she couldn't tell if it was sadness, anger, or both at the same time. These letters, they seemed so wrong somehow. For a person who seemed to love their familia, they sure had a funny way of showing it. Who leaves their ones they love behind, with these mere little notes as proof that they still care? And if the person who wrote these notes really loved their family, why didn't they just come back? Family comes first, does it not? Who would break a rule like that with the selfish desire of performing for an audience?

Elena reached for another paper, feeling her heart skip a beat as she looked at it.

Coco,

I love you with all of my heart. Love, Papá.

A drawing of a doll was in the upper righthand corner, its smiling face staring up at Elena with wide set eyes.

Elena felt a sudden urge to rip the note apart, but for some reason she couldn't bring herself to do it. She knew that these letters still meant something to Mamá and Mamá Imelda. If they didn't mean anything, they'd be in the trash reather than in a box in an empty attic space. Elena knew that if one day Mamá or Mamá Imelda came up here for whatever reason and discovered the box gone, they would for sure be heartbroken. Elena wasn't cruel. It was better to keep the letters up here, just in case.

Elena reluctantly started to read the last note.

Coco,

Just in case you ever forget the words to our song, I've written them down for you. You can still sing it, even without me. I hope you never our song.

Elena widened her eyes as she read the lyrics.

Remember me, though I have to say goodbye.

Remember me, don't let it make you cry.

For even if I'm far away,

I hold you in my heart.

I sing a secret song to you.

Each night we are apart.

Remember me, though I have to travel far.

Remember me, each time you hear a sad guitar.

Elena could feel herself shaking as she read the last lines.

Know that I'm with you the only way that I can be.

Until you're in my arms again,

Remember me...

Elena glared at the note, with its stupid song lyrics Her hands were shaking as she gripped the paper's sides. She channeled all of her energy into setting the paper into the box, trying to keep her trembling hands from tearing the paper to pieces. Then, because the sun had started to set and cast orange and pink lines against the darkening sky, Elena closed the box, shoved it back into its space, and climbed down the stairs carefully as she fumed.