Chapter 29 - The New Year's Eve Gathering
On New Year’s Eve, instead of attending the glittering, superficial galas of Mexico City’s elite where our names had once been whispered with cautious envy, we hosted a massive, joyous celebration right in our Coyoacán courtyard.
Long wooden tables were pushed together and laden with traditional feast foods—mole Oaxaqueño, tamales, fresh tortillas, roasted meats, and sweet pastries. String lights twinkled overhead like a canopy of fallen stars, and the air was filled with the lively, acoustic melodies of a local folk band playing guitars and accordions.
Surrounded by our students, master artisans, federal prosecutors who had become dear friends, and neighbors from the community, the courtyard radiated an unbreakable, radiant energy.
As the clock crept toward midnight, Director Morales raised a glass of sparkling cider, standing on a low wooden bench to address the crowd.
"To the year we left the shadows behind," Director Morales announced, her voice ringing clear and strong across the courtyard. "To the artisans who never gave up, and to the truth that always wins in the end. ¡Salud!"
"¡Salud!" the entire courtyard roared in unison.
I stood close to Mateo near the center of the tables, his arm wrapped securely around my waist. As the final seconds of the year ticked down, the crowd began to chant the countdown: Cinco, cuatro, tres, dos, uno... ¡Feliz Año Nuevo!
May you like
Laughter, cheers, and warm embraces erupted everywhere. Mateo pulled me close, looking down into my eyes with a depth of love and devotion that made the surrounding crowd fade away entirely.
"Happy New Year, Lucía," he whispered, before leaning down to kiss me as the fireworks began to bloom brilliantly across the night sky of Mexico City.
