“One day, though, the Circle will fail.
As Circles always do.
And for the first time she will hear the word fukú.
And she will have a dream of the No Face Man.
Not now, but soon.
If she's her family's daughter--as I suspect she is--one day she will stop being afraid and she will come looking for answers.
Not now, but soon.
One day when I'm least expecting, there will be a knock at my door.
Soy Isis. Hija de Dolores de Leon.
Holy sh**! Come in, chica! Come in!
(I'll notice that she still wears her azabaches, that she has her mother's legs, her uncle's eyes).
I'll pour her a drink, and the wife will fry up her special pastelitos; I'll ask her about her mother as lightly as I can, and I'll bring out the pictures of the three of us from back in the day, and when it starts getting late I'll take her down to my basement and open the four refrigerators where I store her tío's books, his games, his man*script, his comic books, his papers--refrigerators the best proof against fire, against earthquake, against almost anything.
A light, a desk, a cot--I've prepared it all.
How many nights will she stay with us?
As many as it takes.
And maybe, just maybe, if she's as smart and as brave as I'm expecting she'll be, she'll take all we've done and all we've learned and add her own insights and she'll put an end to it.
That is what, on my best days, I hope. What I dream” (330-331).