The car broke down and a lady appeared out of nowhere. It was really weird but she was really nice. "The vivacious woman took us through her spacious living room and into a splendid, sunlit kitchen, where we were asked to sit at a long mahogany table while our hostess poured us a glass after tall glass of ice-cold lemonade. When she had quenched our thirst,she brought us platters full of sweet bread:pumpkin empanadas, pan de huevo, cuernos and the most delicious marranitos-dense pastries shaped like piggies made with sweet molasses and full spicy richness in every morsel." it was so good I ate like I was never ever again going to again( McCall pg 131-132)

I'm going to tell you all I remember...

I began to feel sleepy and my eyes felt incredibly heavy “Perhaps you should rest awhile.”

I watched her with half-closed lids as Cecilia moved about the room with slow, gentle movements that mesmerized me. “We should go,” I whispered, more to myself than to her.

“Come on now,” Cecilia said, as she turned off the lights in the kitchen. “I have the perfect spot for a nap. My husband built this cozy little den just for me. Come on. It’s right through here.” Being so happy to have us in her home, Cecilia made us comfortable in a small nook just off the kitchen, away from the sun and the heat of the day. Like a fairy godmother waving a magical wand, she tapped open cabinet doors and pulled out extra fluffy pillows so that we might rest comfortably on the sofas and recover from our arduous expedition.

Those hours resting went by very fast. We slipped in and out of wakefulness, wincing at the soreness in our muscles" why am I so sore right after a nap...(McCall pg.132-133)

once I have fully waked up and was fully awake that i'm awake

"Suddenly, the familiar pangs of guilt hit me again, and I winced. I hated seeing them so concerned. They were little girls. They should be at home, fashioning bracelets out of old aluminum cans or just sitting at the kitchen table playing Lotería with Mamá.

Juanita pushed herself off the couch and stood looking out the window at the darkness outside. “Do you think she’s gone? She wouldn’t have left us here alone, would she?”

“Girls? Are you awake? Come in here!”

how did she know...was I talking too loud...? (McCall pg.133-134

"I passed out even as I called out to La Llorona. She awakened me what I guessed to be a few minutes later, not with ghoulish wails as might be expected, but as a mother would wake up her beloved child. She sat at the edge of the bed and called my name softly, gently, as she stroked my hair.

“Odilia, wake up, m’ijita,” she whispered with maternal warmth.

“I can’t,” I said, opening my eyes slowly. They felt heavy and swollen with sleep.

“You have to,” she said softly. “It’s important that you get up and purge yourself from this sweet emptiness.”

My stomach was aching dully, and my head felt like it was wrapped in layers and layers of gauze. “Something’s wrong. I don’t feel well,” I complained. Everything around me looked foggy and dark.

“Odilia, I need you to drink this.” La Llorona lifted my head off the pillow and put a warm glass to my mouth. “Drink, child, your life depends on it.”

It took all of my strength to open my mouth and sip the warm liquid in that glass. It was bitter and tasted like rancid grapefruit juice. Cringing, I started to spit it out, but La Llorona coaxed me until I swallowed the rest of it down.

Suddenly I felt it, the need to puke. I flipped the sheets aside, jumped out of bed, and ran into the adjoining bathroom. My rubbery legs almost giving way under me, I reached the toilet just in time to empty the vile contents of my stomach into it.

“What did you give me?” I asked. I turned on the bathroom light and rinsed my mouth in the sink. I was so weak, I had to rest my upper body on the vanity. “I’ve never been so sick in my life.” I felt like something ill was festering in my stomach, and my head felt like a piñata stuffed with cotton balls.

“It’s Cecilia’s sweetness,” La Llorona explained. “It took control of you." control of me...?( McCall pg.142-143)

I can't believe Cecilia has been poisoning us... "Someone was moving around in the kitchen. “Who’s that?” I asked quietly, so as not to be heard.

“Cecilia, en su gloria, in all her spectral splendor,” La Llorona whispered as an ancient, haggish woman walked into view. “This is her true form. The woman you see by day is an illusion reflected by the sunlight. It is created by the potions she mixes in this kitchen and then secretly adds to her special treats.”

It seemed unreal to me, but the woman in the kitchen was wearing the same clothing Cecilia had worn that morning. Her hair, however, was as gray and dusty as moth wings, and her sagging wrinkled skin almost hung off her face like a worn leather sack. She was grinding out something hard in a big black three-legged mortar. The molcajete’s legs kept thumping against the table, making an ominous rhythmic sound. Her discolored tongue poked in and out of her prunish mouth, and she puckered and twisted her craggy lips as she ground a coarse white substance into powder with a big fat pestle just like the one Mamá uses to make her homemade salsas.

“What is she doing?” I asked.

“Getting ready for tomorrow,” La Llorona whispered, pushing me deeper into the shadows of the hall. “Cecilia is baking for you and your sisters. You have become her special pets.” i am now trying to find a way to escape i hope i make it out alive with my sisters...

(McCall chap.9 pg.143) therefore don't judge a book by it's cover