I awoke in the middle of the night and looked outside. A dim light flickered in one of the Garcías’ windows, a watchful eye spying on us. In the study, I could hear Papi and Mami talking in low whispers. I tiptoed down the hallway and stood in the shadows.

“Alberto, please, you must be more careful,” Mami pleaded. “Getting involved in politics is risky. Think of our friends who have gone to prison or disappeared. Think of the Mirabal sisters. We could suffer the same fate.”

“I am thinking of them,” said Papi. “I am thinking of the courage that the Mirabals—those brave Mariposas—showed in standing up to the dictator. And I am thinking of our children’s future. Just imagine what it would be like to live in freedom.”

“… you must be more careful,” Mami pleaded.

“But Alberto, these are violent and dangerous times,” said Mami. “Everyone in the Dominican Republic is caught in an iron grip of fear. I share your dream, but I’m afraid of what could happen.”

“And I’m afraid of what could happen if we do nothing,” said Papi.

I tiptoed back to my room and curled up with Kiki under my chin. I didn’t sleep for a long time, and when I did, I dreamed of butterflies, their wings flickering in the sunshine.