My name is Luna, I am the youngest daughter of the Carpio family. Today I turn 19. Today, like every day, I leave my house late for work, trying not to be seen by anyone. My stepsister arrived a month ago and everything has become hell for me. It was easier to avoid my stepmother, but now I have to avoid both of them.

In the living room are my stepmother and her daughter talking as they do every day.

"Mother, I have many marriage proposals."

"I'll give Fernando a week, if he doesn't send you the proposal, you'll have to marry one of those who have already sent a proposal," my stepmother replies.

"No, I won't leave the way clear for another with Fernando. If I marry someone else, I won't be able to marry Fernando," my stepsister says.

"It won't happen, you are the most beautiful of all the powerful families. The ladies are fighting for you to be in their families."

"I know, today in the recordings the views went up since I will be the protagonist. I've just returned and people surround me, I won't waste my beauty on someone like Limber, he's a bitter man who doesn't go out and I won't stay locked up in that house, and if I did, it would only be so Luna could see how the love of her childhood proposed to me and not to her," my stepsister says.

"You always were and always will be more beautiful than her," my stepmother says.

"Thank you, Mother. With Fernando I will have everything, money and that man by my side. I want them to envy me for being next to someone like him, and if all this time he didn't marry it was because he was waiting for me," my stepsister says.

I hear them talking and it hurts because Limber has always been my neighbor. But now that he has graduated he has become very influential and is a person with a lot of money, he always does what his parents order him to do. I go down the stairs cautiously but they manage to see me.

"Luna, where are you going?" my stepmother asks.

"I'm just going out, stepmother," I reply.

"Look, Mother, at the clothes she's wearing," my stepsister says when she sees me in pants, a long-sleeved blouse and sneakers.

"Change, you're not leaving my house like that," my stepmother says, looking at me badly since according to them society ladies only wear elegant dresses.

"With which of all the clothes you've bought me?" I say to her and she gets up annoyed walking towards me.

"I tolerate you only for the love I had for your father, if it were up to me I would have kicked you out onto the street from the first day I set foot in this house," my stepmother says.

"Is that it, or because I haven't reached the required age and my father's will can't be read until I do," I say to her.

"How insolent, I have fed you, clothed you and is this how you repay me?" my stepmother says.

"We both know perfectly well that neither I want to be here nor you want me to be, so we have to continue avoiding each other as in the last year, and what food? What clothes? I work for myself, I have never depended on you even though you spend my father's money on your daughter," I say to her.

She tries to grab me but I break free from her grip.

"Mother, let her go, she's just getting in the way here," my stepsister says.

I ignore what she says and don't think twice about leaving, I walk along the sidewalk arriving at the double gate which I partially open so that I can leave. When I was a child I loved to see how the gates opened automatically, I chose them. It has been exactly a year since my father died of a heart attack, the bad thing is that he left me with those two vipers he brought home and although I say no, the truth is that I resent him for leaving me with them, although now he is in heaven next to my mother.

I walk a few blocks to catch a bus and arrive at work, late because the conversation with my stepmother delayed me. I enter the club from the back and change, putting on the uniform along with the apron and knock on the door of one of the private rooms that they indicate.

"Good afternoon, gentlemen. I am the waitress Lulu and I will attend to you tonight," I say.

No one here gives their real name, customers don't need to know our name, Lulu was the only name I thought of when for a moment I would say my real name and I had to improvise.

They tell me the bottles they require and I write everything down, leaving where I run into the companionship women, they only take care of keeping the clients company, when it is business they call them almost at the end as now that they will celebrate. I go to the bar and ask for the bottles, I sigh before entering and leave them on the table, I place the glasses and my colleagues dedicate themselves to serving, I leave and for the moment that's all from my part, I continue to the most common area where the tables are outdoors, first, second and third floor.

Dawn comes, the club closes and the boss calls us for the meeting, here the payment is weekly and he gives me an envelope with more money than my salary.

"Why is there more money?" I ask.

"The same client as always left it for you, he says you served him well," my boss replies.

"Lulu, why don't you change positions? You will earn more and if you don't want to be touched you just say it, it is not mandatory to get involved with the clients, it is only to keep them company, you are very pretty, they always ask for you but they are explained that you only serve the drinks," says one of my colleagues.

"Thank you and I will continue like this," I say to my colleague, who always brings up the same topic.

I go to change and leave with the clothes I came in, I walk along the sidewalk and as always I deviate to a park a block away. I sit on a bench and as if the weather knew how I feel, it starts to rain, I stay sitting alone with my thoughts.

I remember when I read Cinderella and said how someone can be cruel to someone else's daughter and yes there are. A year ago I went out to look for work since I couldn't stand being at home with my stepmother. While Estrella went to study theater abroad I looked for work in the afternoon and it paid for the last year of high school, I found it in the club and the pay is very good, I save up for when I turn 20 and the will is determined I have somewhere to go, while I can't leave the house and if I do they will keep everything and I'm not willing to let that happen.

"Oh, Father! I sigh, marrying was the biggest mistake you made, giving your last name to the daughter of my mother's sister was even worse, I know that according to you you supported them for being a single mother, but you only made it more complicated for me, now I am the one who has to put up with them, according to you, I needed a maternal figure but I would have preferred not to have one, I remember when my aunt arrived asking for asylum, her husband abandoned them and my mother had just died was sick, she left me when I was only 4 years old and I barely remember her, at one point I thought my aunt would take my mother's place but it wasn't like that, it will never be like that.

I arrive home soaked and go up to my room. When I enter, I find my stepsister sitting on my bed.

"Just look at you, you'll never find a husband like that. On the other hand, I've already received many marriage proposals, but there was one in particular: Limber, fighting over me. Can you believe it? When before he only saw you, he only looked for you."

"Good for you. Now, get out of my room so I can rest," I tell her, and she gets up, passing by my side.

"When Fernando proposes to me, I'll clear the way for you with Limber. That way, at least, you can say you'll be with the only man who has ever loved you, if he even pays attention to you, since you're not up to his standards."

She keeps walking and slips on the water dripping from my clothes, screaming exaggeratedly. My stepmother is quick to arrive, angry.

"I only came to give her the news and she pushed me. Look at her, mother, how she arrived. Who knows who she was with or where she went to come back like this."

"Estrella, I don't care if you get married. I don't care what you do. As far as I'm concerned, leave the house that my parents built with so much effort," I shout at her, and I feel the slap my stepmother gives me.

"This house is mine now," she says through clenched teeth, and Estrella gets up with a smile. My stepmother leaves, and with a push, I throw Estrella out of my room.

"Not for long," I shout at her, closing the door.

"See, she pushed me," I hear Estrella complain in her spoiled voice. They knock on the door and I lock it. They try to open it, but they don't know that when they weren't around, I changed the lock. This is my room, the only place where I feel safe. Sometimes I want to run away, but that's what they want, and I won't give them the pleasure.

I change in the bathroom and take out the payment I received today. Tomorrow I'll take it to the bank to save it. I lie down to sleep and on my nightstand I see the photo of my parents. I wipe away my tears and today is a day when I cover up my father's photo.

I wake up to my alarm and wash up, changing quickly, putting my work clothes and a uniform shirt in my bag. Now, with Estrella here, I don't plan to come back. From school I'll go to work. I leave almost running and when I get to school, I go to my classes. I don't talk to anyone. When classes are over, I go to the bank, where I deposit my money, and in the late afternoon I go to the club. I change as always.

I knock, entering a room, and ask them what they'll have. I feel a very penetrating gaze, but for me it's almost normal. I take note, leaving, and return with the bottles. I leave them on the table and when I leave, I bump into a tall person.

"I'm sorry, sir," I say.

"Fernando Linares, nice to meet you," he says, and I remember Estrella talking about him.

"Nice to meet you, my name is Lulu."

"I told you my real name. Why don't you tell me yours?" he asks me, and my eyes widen.

"That is my name."

"That name doesn't go with such a beautiful face," he whispers, and I squeeze the tray.

"Have a good night, Mr. Linares," I say, and walk away quickly.

Just before finishing my shift, they call me to take more bottles to Mr. Linares' private room. I enter and he is sitting alone.

"Can you tell me which bottle you want?"

"One that you recommend. And I want your company."

"Sir, I think you know more about bottles than I do. And about my company, it won't be possible, since there are staff for that."

"Charge whatever you want, I'll pay it."

"It's not about that."

"I just want to talk. I'm not asking for much."

"It's not possible. Now, if you'll excuse me, I can ask the bartender for the best bottle to bring it to you."

"Alright, thank you," he says, and I leave to get the bottle. I enter, leaving it on the table. He looks at me and I try to avoid it, since I don't want him to recognize me when he marries Estrella, if they find out that the stepsister works in a place like this, he won't want to marry her, and it's not for them, but then I'll always have them at home. I'm grateful that it's half dark.

"Are you very young?" he says, while I serve him.

"When there are needs, that's the least of it."

"Are you underage?" he asks me with the glass in his hand and a cigarette in the other.

"I'm of legal age."

"Do you get the tip that I leave you every time I come here?" he says, so he's the one who leaves them.

"Yes, Mr. Linares, thank you very much."

"I've been coming here for years and the first time I saw you was a year ago. I thought you were the daughter of a worker," he says, and I look at my watch, noticing that my departure time has already passed.

"Well, I'll leave you now since it's my departure time."

"Am I boring you?"

"My boyfriend always waits for me at the exit to go together," I lie, and he nods.

I leave, changing, and say goodbye to the boss. I leave the bar waiting for a taxi, but none pass. I have no choice but to start walking. I appreciate my comfortable sneakers for this occasion. I walk two blocks and hear the honk of a car that slows down next to me. With my headphones, I pretend not to notice, but I always try to be aware of what's happening around me. I feel someone grab my shoulder and I turn, taking off my headphones.

"Can I give you a ride? After all, I delayed you," Mr. Linares says, looking for something.

"Thank you, but no, and don't worry, I live nearby," I tell him.

He laughs and I realize why.

"Make up another excuse. Only the children of the great families live here. And your boyfriend? Did he run away? Why don't I see him?"

"I'll try not to sound rude, but I see that you insist. Here I go: You are a stranger to me. I would never get into a stranger's car. I tried to be nice to you, but you still don't understand. Now, if you want to go complain to my boss, do it," I say, turning my back to him.

When a taxi passes, I raise my arm to stop it and get in. I arrive at the house, enter the gate area and walk to the house. I notice a car parked that is very similar to Mr. Linares'. They changed the lock. I go around to where my window is and there is a rusty ladder hidden among the ivy. I climb up, since my father made it at the time. I climb in through the window and notice that my room is all messed up. I leave my bag, noticing that the door is broken. They opened it by force. I leave angry, heading to the living room, but I am stopped by the voices.

"Of course, Mr. Linares, we were expecting you. My daughter has been waiting for you for days," my stepmother says, and rather they were urged by why he came.

"Mother, what will Mr. Linares think of me?" Estrella says, and I want to make fun of her.

"I'll go see why they're taking so long to bring the snacks," my stepmother says, and when she leaves, she sees me standing there. She grabs my arm, but I don't move, shaking her off.

"We need to talk."

"About what? About how you changed the locks on the house so I can't get into my house or how you broke into my room by force, breaking the door," I say without measuring the tone of my voice, and for the first time my stepmother looks desperate.

"Lower your voice. I'll give you the new keys and call the locksmith to fix your door. What do you say, my dear? Don't get upset," she says the last in a tone so full of tenderness, and I turn to see who she's talking to like that and I smile, since Estrella and Mr. Linares are standing at the door of the living room.

I avoid looking him in the face. I don't want him to read my eyes, nor to discover how broken I am inside. I just sigh with resignation.

"Do you excuse us? I'll take my daughter to her room," says my stepmother with a kind smile that doesn't reach her eyes.

"I didn't know you had two daughters," comments Mr. Linares, with that voice of his that always sounds as if he were judging everything he sees. And it angers me. It makes my blood boil that they talk about me as if I weren't present, as if my life were an irrelevant fact.

"She doesn't have them," I reply without looking at them, my voice firm. "I am her stepdaughter."

Without further ado, they return to the living room, laughing at some stupid comment from Estrella. I go up with my stepmother to my room. I sit on the bed, still wet, still trembling. She stands, as if she is disgusted to even approach. She throws me the keys. I catch them and put them away without looking at her.

"Don't ruin this for your sister. Do you think your father would have allowed it?"

Upon hearing this, I bristle. I feel a void, a pang in my chest.

"Don't even mention it. If he were alive... believe me, I would be the one in one of the best schools. Not Estrella."

She crosses her arms, feigning calm.

"Is that what angers you? You don't have to claim anything from me. Your father was the one who froze everything until the reading of the will. We only have this house."

"Don't come to me with that. Working, you live as if you were millionaires. You hired an employee just to pretend."

"It's so Mr. Linares thinks we have money. All that is with my savings. Soon we won't even have anything to eat. That's why I want Estrella to get married. And if she succeeds... maybe we'll leave this house for you alone."

I fall silent, processing that last sentence.

"Are you serious?"

"Yes. But don't ruin anything."

She sighs. And for a moment, in her eyes, there's something that disturbs me. Pity? Remorse?

"You look so much like her... your mother."

And then I understand everything. I clench the keys in my hands.

"It must have been horrible for you," I say, "to see me every day and remember that my father loved someone else. The woman you never were."

She remains motionless, her lips parted.

"If you ever wondered why I hate you so much... there's your answer," she says, turning to leave.

I already knew. I always knew. But hearing her say it aloud is like receiving a slap with a truth that burns.

When she leaves, I am silent. My books are lying on the floor. I pick them up carefully, but it no longer makes sense. Nothing makes sense. I close the door and put a chair to lock it. Even so, I don't sleep well. I feel vulnerable. Exposed. Watched.

The next morning, the house is silent. As always.

I walk more than usual to take a cheaper bus. I want to save more. I need to get out of here. My backpack weighs, but what weighs the most is the uncertainty of my future.

I arrive at high school. At recess, I take out a plate of steamed vegetables. The others eat as if they had no worries. Some play like children, others kiss in dark corners. A group has a table full like a buffet. I sit in a corner, with my cheap topper. I eat without looking at anyone. Without speaking. Invisible.

I finish eating. I put everything away. I put on my headphones, but no music plays. I just need silence. I walk towards the nightclub.

I change in the dressing rooms, like every day. I put on the clothes that hide my true self and reveal the character of Lulu. I start working. At least, Mr. Linares didn't report me. If he had, I would already be on the street.

Then they call me to one of the most exclusive lounges. A private lounge. Upon entering, something tells me that this place is not like the others.

The light is dim. There's a dense, uncomfortable silence. Three men are in the room. One smokes. Another checks his cell phone. The third... doesn't move.

I ask what they want to drink. I write down their orders quickly.

"Do you need company?" I ask, as protocol dictates.

"No," replies one, with an authoritative voice.

It's him. The one in the corner. I don't see him well, but his presence imposes. I feel my skin crawl.

I leave to prepare the drinks. My hands tremble. Something tells me that I must be careful. He's one of those clients who, if he gets angry, not only do you lose your job. He can make you disappear.

I return with the tray. I serve the drinks with delicacy. The two men on the sides take their glasses. The one in the corner doesn't. He just watches me. His eyes follow me like knives.

"If that's all... I'll retire," I whisper, turning around.

"Out."

The word echoes in my back. I speed up. But it wasn't for me. The other two men leave quickly, as if they understood without questioning anything. They leave me alone with him.

Then I hear him.

A familiar voice. Dark. Inevitable.

"Who would have thought that a Carpio would work in a nightclub?"

And then, the stab.

"Does your father know that his beloved daughter works in a bar?"

The air escapes me. My legs falter. I turn slowly...