Joaquín tried to calm them down. “But what do you mean?” Isabella asked between sobs. “Everyone loves Tomás. He’s like a little brother to many of them. And what Don Eduardo does.” Marino finished his sentence, but he didn’t need to. In the slave quarters,
In fact, a silent but deadly fury grew. Joaquín, José the blacksmith, Miguel, the stable foreman, and 15 other slaves had secretly gathered while Tomás’s screams filled the night. “This can’t go on,” José muttered, his fists clenched until his knuckles turned white. “This
“That boy has never hurt anyone, and Miss Isabella,” Miguel added, “has always been good to us. She never treated us like animals.” Joaquín, the wisest of the group, tried to be the voice of reason. “Brothers, I understand your anger. I feel it too, but if
We do something stupid tonight, we’ll all die. We’re already dying, José replied. Little by little, every day. At least then we’ll die like men. Thomas’s shouts stopped abruptly. An ominous silence fell over the plantation.
