"You finally put a lock on it," he said. There was no accusation in his voice, just observation.
But Elena knew better. She knew that ideas were fragile. If she showed him the novel now, while it was still a soft, shapeless thing, his well-meaning criticism would harden it too early. She needed the folder locked, not because she was doing something wrong, but because she was building something delicate. ponerle contraseña a carpeta