1975: A Once in a Lifetime

Antonio and the others waited outside the school clinic, the air thick with unspoken tension. Only Pacita was with Eleanor inside, sitting quietly by her side as she recovered. The sound of footsteps echoed down the hallway, but it wasn't until the door opened that Pacita finally let out a breath she hadn't realized she was holding.

When Eleanor woke up, her vision blurred for a moment, but she quickly focused. Before she could speak, Pacita rushed to her side, her arms wrapping around Eleanor in a tight, almost desperate embrace.

"Eleanor, are you okay?" Pacita asked, her voice cracking with worry. She pulled back just enough to see Eleanor's face, scanning for any sign of distress.

Eleanor, though exhausted, gave her a reassuring smile. "I'm fine, Pacita. Really," she said, though her voice was soft and weak.

But Pacita could see through the façade. Her brow furrowed with concern, and she placed a hand on Eleanor's shoulder. "You sure? You scared me half to death."

Eleanor nodded, though the anxiety in Pacita's eyes made her feel guilty. "I'm okay," she repeated, but Pacita wasn't convinced.

Pacita's voice grew more insistent. "I'm still angry, Eleanor. This isn't just about you passing out. Someone did this to you. I need to know who." Her hands clenched into fists, a mix of anger and frustration bubbling to the surface.

Eleanor looked away, her gaze distant. "There's no point in finding out," she said softly. "Let it go. It's not like anyone cares enough to pay attention to me." Her words were tinged with a hint of resignation, as if she didn't expect anyone to take action or come to her aid.

Pacita shook her head, her expression fierce. "That's not true. You matter. And I won't let this go until I know who did this." She took a deep breath, trying to calm herself. "But I get it. You're tired of it all."

Eleanor sighed. "I'm not tired of it. I'm just tired of... everything. But please, let it go. I'll be fine."

Pacita didn't seem convinced, but before she could argue further, the clinic door opened, and the doctor stepped out. He looked at Eleanor with concern, his voice gentle yet firm.

"Eleanor, you need to take care of yourself," he said, his eyes scanning her vitals. "You can't afford to push yourself too hard. Don't bottle up your emotions, and please, don't overexert yourself. Rest is your best friend right now."

Eleanor nodded wearily, though she didn't feel like resting. She was tired of being vulnerable, tired of feeling like she needed protection. But she kept her thoughts to herself, nodding obediently. "Okay, doc. I understand."

Before they could leave, Eleanor looked at Pacita. "I'll be right back. I need to use the restroom," she said, her tone casual, though she could feel the weight of the situation pressing down on her.

"I'll wait for you outside," Pacita replied, her voice soft but still laced with concern. She squeezed Eleanor's hand gently before letting go and stepping back to give her space.

As Pacita stepped outside the clinic, she wasn't expecting to see Antonio still standing there, waiting as if nothing had changed. Her heart sank at the sight of him, and without thinking, she shot him an angry look.

Antonio, as if sensing her discomfort, immediately walked toward her. "How's Eleanor?" His voice was gentle, though his eyes were filled with concern.

Pacita's frustration boiled over at the sight of him. She hadn't expected him to be there, to still care.

"She's fine," Pacita said, her tone tight with barely contained frustration. She wasn't interested in small talk. "But do you know who did this? Who hurt her?"

Antonio's face darkened, his jaw tightening as he looked back at Pacita. "No," he said, shaking his head. "We don't know yet. But I'll find out. I promise you that."

Eleanor stood there, trying to make sense of everything. She didn't know what to say, how to react to him or what had happened. Just then, she stepped out of the clinic, her eyes meeting Antonio's. She froze, her stomach twisting in knots.

Her emotions swirled into a complicated mess—guilt, and confusion. She hadn't known how to react to Antonio's presence, but seeing him now made her feel even more unsure.

She didn't know what to say, so she did what felt natural. She grabbed Pacita's hand, pulling her away from Antonio. "Let's go," she said quickly, her voice quiet but firm.

Antonio called after her, his voice filled with urgency. "Eleanor, wait!"

But Sebastian, who had been standing a few feet away, stepped forward and gently placed a hand on Antonio's arm. "Antonio," he said, his voice calm but insistent. "Let it go for now. She needs some space."

Antonio hesitated, his gaze lingering on Eleanor and Pacita as they walked away. But after a long pause, he nodded, though his frustration was still evident. "I won't give up," he muttered under his breath, though it was more to himself than anyone else.

As Pacita and Eleanor walked away, Eleanor's heart pounded in her chest, and the words she had wanted to say seemed to be trapped in her throat. She didn't know what was happening between her and Antonio, but all she could do was pull away, hoping that distance would bring clarity.

Back in the Present...

Antonio's grandchildren could clearly feel the frustration as they listened to his story, their eyes wide with curiosity and concern.

1975...

Eleanor's parents were horrified when they found out she had been rushed to the clinic. The doctor had called them to inform them that Eleanor had collapsed and reminded them to be cautious with her emotions, as they could have serious effects on her health.

Julio, Eleanor's father, was angry and scolded her for the incident. They didn't know the reason for her collapse, and Eleanor was reluctant to share the truth.

"Why can't you just be homeschooled?" her father snapped. "That way, we can keep a better eye on you."

Eleanor sat quietly, feeling a heavy sadness as her mother, Corazon, gently stroked her hair.

"I don't want to be homeschooled," Eleanor answered, her voice soft. "It would feel like I'm a prisoner in this house. I'll be more careful from now on, I promise."

After a moment, Eleanor excused herself and headed to her room. As she closed the door behind her, she could hear her parents talking.

Corazon, her mother, spoke with concern. "Eleanor's condition hasn't improved, and that's why I'm so worried," she said, her voice filled with unease. "But I don't want to take away her chance to live a normal life. Even if I want her to be homeschooled, if she doesn't want it, I can't force her."

She paused before adding, "I wouldn't be able to handle it if something happened to her."

Eleanor, listening from her room, instinctively pressed her hand to her chest, tears slipping down her face as she absorbed her mother's words.