Carlos, Reyna, and Mago, 1985 ONE SUNNY DAY in May of 1985, when I was four months away from turning ten, my cousin Félix showed up at Abuelita Chinta’s house and said, “Your father is going to call you in an hour. He wants to talk to you.” He turned around and ran off, and it took us a moment to recover from the shock. By the time we could speak, Félix was already hurrying across the bridge and turning the corner to head to the main road. “Papi is going to call?” Carlos asked, and then the question...