Raíz que no desaparece

When Marcos was a child, he used to leave letters for his mother before heading to school. Now, he appears in her dreams, wanting to tell her where he was taken when he was made to disappear. Ada is in a race against time, fearing she might die before finding him, yet she is certain of one thing: she must look for him in a tree. In the heart of the city, a palm tree was cut down and replaced by an *ahuehuete*—a Montezuma cypress—that has since died under mysterious circumstances. A writer wants to tell this story and speak out about it. This is how she crosses paths with Ada and other "searching mothers" who also dream of their children's whereabouts. Although the prosecutor's office seeks to bury the files regarding these dreams, the coordinates they reveal point to the location of the disappeared with inexplicable precision. Trees see everything. Witnesses to the death that accumulates around their roots in the form of clandestine graves—manifesting in their trunks and leaves—they become translators of the search, intermediaries between memory, absence, and hope. What if that which has been silenced is speaking through the trees?