A small village lost in the midst of a vast pine forest in northern Spain. A place that forgets and hides ghosts. My family’s stone house, locked with three padlocks. During a traditional festival of medieval origin, eligible men cut down the tallest, longest, and straightest pine tree, and nail it in the town square. In that same place 70 years earlier, my great-grandmother and her daughter were killed. A double femicide perpetrated in plain sight, but of which no one spoke, until now.