Epilogne to House of the Spirits

             After reading House of the Spirits, I was left with many questions. Thus, I
             decided to write an epilogne, and my objective being to bring and 21st century resolution
             The story follows the original narrator, Alba, and is told in first person limited.
             Twenty years have elapsed since the last chapter, and she is concluding what has been
             happening in her life, as well as what has been happening in her country.
             People were gathered in front of the courthouse in hushed spirits and bottles of
             wine waiting to be opened. The Dictator was on trial, and his immunity could possibly be
             The past twenty years had been good for Chile economically, but at the same time,
             human rights had been sacrificed. The Dictator opened the markets, and the economy
             began to flourish, but at the same time people had disappeared by the thousands. Their
             houses had been broken into in the middle of the night, and soldiers had driven off with
             loved ones, who were to never be seen again.
             I gave birth to a daughter shortly after my beloved grandfather died. I named her
             Eva, for I believed that she symbolized the eve of a new beginning not only for my
             family, but for my country as well. Miguel visited me a few times visiting his daughter.
             Whether the daughter was ultimately his or not, I don't know, but it didn't matter. He
             had the love of a father, and that was enough to confirm it for me. The Dictator was still
             in power, so my visits with Miguel were often brief and between long separations. Some
             periods were so long, I wondered if he was captured, and if I would ever see him again.
             Each visit I recorded, so when Eva became old enough, she could read about the love he
             had for her, and how during each visit, he oftener spent more time with her than with me.
             I knew that seeing him would be risky, but I loved him too much to never see him
             again. He would leave a poem by The Poet on my doorstep, and tha...

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