The biting cold wind whipped around Jonah, tearing at his threadbare robe. His small, deformed body shivered, but it wasn't just the cold that made him tremble. The stares, the whispers, the outright fear in the eyes of the villagers of Audi were a constant, invisible chill that had permeated his very bones since birth.

Today, the shame was a burning inferno within him. 'I am not a monster! I am not a monster!' The words had escaped him, a desperate roar against the silent condemnation of a world that refused to see him as human. He had run, Alma's inert head bouncing slightly against his shoulder, her serene, closed eyes oblivious to the fresh agony.

Now, lying in the snow, broken and beaten after Alfredo and his mob had left him for dead, Jonah felt a profound, chilling despair. His parents, the Caraballos, had abandoned him again, watching from behind their curtains as he lay freezing. He crawled towards the familiar, unwelcoming door of his house, each movement a fresh wave of pain.

Inside his dark, solitary room, curled in a fetal position, the curses flowed freely, mingling with the tears. He cursed God, his parents, everyone who had ever looked at him with disgust. Then, a new name formed on his lips, a desperate plea in the suffocating darkness: 'Come, I need you.'