The market was alive with color and noise, a chaotic symphony that somehow felt comforting. I walked beside Catalina, basket in hand, watching her navigate the crowded stalls as if she belonged there. I was surprised to discover that someone as wealthy as Catalina had such a keen ability to haggle over prices.

I could probably buy the entire market in Mexico. The stalls, the products, even the people who ran them. And without even blinking. And yet, there I was, arguing over twenty pesos as if