"Welcome back, María Dolores," the host began, his voice a low velvet. "The last time we spoke, you told us about the lights of the stage. Today, I want to talk about the shadows behind the songs."

She looked exactly as she sounded: elegant, composed, and timeless. Her signature shawl was draped over her shoulders like a protective wing.

"People ask why I sing about heartbreaks I haven't died from," she said as the music faded. "But a singer is a vessel. I don't need to be the woman standing in the rain to feel the cold on her skin. I just need to remember that we have all, at some point, been waiting for someone who didn't come."

Between stories, the producer faded in her hits. When “Fina Estampa” played, María Dolores closed her eyes, her long fingers tapping a rhythmic ghost-beat on the mahogany table.