Angels were not her thing but Aurora's grandfather gave her a guardian angel lamp one of the ones that turned on by someone's touch, with three levels of light receding.
 
"What's the matter mi niña? Worried for your mama, is that it? You know your father is looking everywhere."
 
"I’m okay, Abuelo."
 
"Nonsense, speak up Aurorita."
 
"Abuelo, it's just that..." and she placed the lamp on the table, "It's beautiful, by the way. I'm worried because, you're right, Abuelo, I'm stressed out about my mom. Papi won’t let me search with him. He says it’s dangerous. I feel this is all my fault."
 
"It's not your fault! You can't stop hoping, never lose your faith and you will not only find her; you'll find El que te amó primero - el Creador del universo!"
 
"You mean God? Why do you say that? Does he even exist?" Aurora mumbled.
 
"I heard that," said El Abuelo and turned around.
 
"You know; let me tell you a story. A story about how I found Him."
 
"I don't have time for stories now, Abuelo. Besides even if I did - sorry, I don't believe in cuentos!"
 
"Ahh, but this is not just any story!”
 
"Goodnight, Abuelo!"
 
"You will miss out, oh I'll tell you later..."
 
Behind closed doors Aurora wept as she reclined on the mound of clothes on her bed. There were long skirts, sweater vests, blouses and sport bras mostly pink and white. Her homemade journal with a drawing of a black and white castle was thrown to one side. Her violin in its bag reminded her of her mother. Her father had purchased it the night before at a thrift store so she could play for her mother. The sounds Aurora struggled to craft in reality had startled her mother Esperanza, who had tightly covered her ears.
 
“I’ll never learn to play this way, or I’ll have to live on my own,” Aurora remembered having said.
 
Esperanza had been sitting at the doorway reading, and had overheard.
 
She had tossed her book in Aurora’s direction, and muttered, “Lee un libro mejor, cabrona!”
 
“Read a book, Mom? You want me to read to you?” and Aurora acted like the book hadn't hurt her shoulder, but it actually did.
 
“Stop playing that miserable violin!” She bit into a nail, and then said, “You played the piano like an angel before!”
 
“But I don’t have a piano anymore, or do I?” and Aurora set the violin down. “Remember you gave it to those metaleros? The ones that…”
 
“Yes, yes, the ones that chopped it up for the metals inside, and didn’t give a shit for the piano,” Esperanza chuckled.
 
“Yes, we thought they wanted it for church. Como lloré!” and Aurora grabbed her mother's book from the ground. It was Heaven is Real But So is Hell.
 
“You cry for everything, Aura," 
 
“And you complain about everything,” and Aurora smiled. 
 

Flavio, Aurora’s father, knew his wife was downward spiraling, and even though his mother didn't think she would ever get better, he didn't lose hope; he prayed to God and His nine choirs of angels.