At seven years old, I cried and insisted that I would marry my neighbor.

The silence in the boardroom of Monterrey Enterprise Group was so thick you could cut it with a wire. The other three interviewers looked at each other in a panic, thinking the CEO had either lost his mind or was harassing their most brilliant candidate.

I felt as if the chair beneath me were disappearing. The air conditioner, which had felt icy moments before, now made the room feel suffocating. —“Sir…” —the Head of Human Resources stammered—, “Ms. Elena has an impeccable resume in Finance, we…” —“I know,” —he interrupted, without taking his eyes off me. He approached slowly, walking around the glass table until he stood about three feet away. He smelled of success and that same soft scent he used to wear when he helped me with my math homework—. “I know she graduated with honors. I know she is the best. Because she always keeps her promises.”