𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐄𝐑 // carlos sainz

tres

chapter three
isabel martinéz

It's summer in Mexico, and the scorching sun beats down on my bare shoulders, moments before the sudden cloudburst cools down the earth. Tiny droplets of rain almost evaporate as soon as hitting the asphalt, an indication of just how hot it is today. Mexico is not for the weak, is what my abuelo would have said.

The rain provides a momentary relief from the relentless heat, but my breath still trembles as I stand there once again. Autódromo Hermanos Rodríquez, home of the Mexican Grand Prix.

Dahlias bloom alongside the entrance, the salmon-pink petals adding some colour to this colourless day. Somewhere in the distance, the sounds of a Mariachi band playing traditional songs fill the air, and my father hums along. I know it should make me happy, but returning here feels like stepping into world haunted by painful memories, a world I tried so hard to avoid, a world that was once my childhood.

This place used to bring me happiness. I used to love coming here, it was my second—my third home. But memories of my brother are woven into every inch of the track, encapsulated in every turn and every straight. It's sad to think that a place that used to drill happiness into my very soul, now holds such bad memories.

My mother's hand is on my shoulder, and she squeezes it a little, telling me all is going to be fine. We have a rocky relationship at times, but she means well.

"You can do this, mijita."

"I don't know, mom."

"Sweetheart," The sound of melancholy echoes within her voice, "this is going to be difficult for all of us, but remember what we are doing it for, who we are doing it for."

I hate it when she pulls the Diego card.

So I sigh. "I know, I know."

She squeezes it another time, before she lets go again. "Hay que imponer nuestra voluntad a nuestras debilidades, we need to impose our will over our weaknesses."

I take a deep breath, and acknowledge that she is right, because mothers are always right. I need to overcome my fears, but those fears have become such a part of me, that I'm afraid to let them go. What will happen when I don't think about him every second of the day? Will I forget what he looks like? Sounds like? Talks like? Will I forget his smile? The sparkle in his eyes? The way his face lights up when he laughs?

I refuse to forget him, so I hold onto those fears like they are my most cherished possession.

"Okay." I force myself to say.

My eyes trace the curves of the track, each twist and turn holds a reminiscence of the thrill and danger that took Diego away from us. Images of the crash come flooding back like waves, threatening to drown me in sorrow. The screeching tires, the shockwave passing through the crowd, and then the silence. The silence that followed my brother's passing still echoes in my mind with haunting clarity.

"Is Felipe almost here?" My father asks, his voice snapping me out of my thoughts. It doesn't really seem like he has any qualms about being here, unlike my mother and I.

I shrug my shoulders and think about my boyfriend. "I'll text him our seats later."

My father doesn't really like Felipe, because he is arrogant and full of himself, and to be honest, I have been trying to find the right moment to break up with him. But that moment remains to exist somewhere in the future.

"Or," I continue as I shove my phone back into the pockets of my shorts, "I'll just pretend to have forgotten to text him."

"That's my girl." Dad grins widely as he pats my back, and my mother rolls her eyes at us.