Then he looked at his reflection in the window glass.
Desperate, he ran to his abuela.
Mateo felt the floor tilt beneath him. “How do I undo it?” Ten cuidado con lo que deseas
He carried the sphere to his studio, feeling a thrum of power up his arms. That night, half-asleep and drunk on cheap wine, he held the obsidian and whispered to the empty room: “I wish for a masterpiece. Something that will make the whole world remember my name.” Then he looked at his reflection in the window glass