The horror

I thought the house was empty, dead quiet as it was, when suddenly I hear mother laughing like there was no tomorrow. I haven't heard that plangent laugh in years, so I'm guessing she's either drunk or in love, in her very own insecure-teenager sort of way.

I get out of bed and slip down the stairs, not knowing whether to be scared or carefully curious. Before realizing I'm not even half dressed I can see the broad-shouldered source of mother's rediscovered exhilaration from the kitchen: Hernan is back. His muscles vibrate when he chuckles, I'm in my underwear. As he turns towards me and I barely manage to hide behind the wall I'm struck by a daunting thought: did I want him to get a glimpse of me?