He called her.
He protected her.
And it was he who saved her life.
"Mom," said Mateo, approaching slowly. "Are you here?"
Valeria gathered all the strength she had left.
His fingers closed around the child's hand.
This time, yes.
Firm.
Real.
Mateo let out a sob that broke everyone's heart.
"She's here," he said. "My mom is here."
Sergio started screaming as they took him out.
—Valeria! Tell them that's not what happened! Think of Mateo!
She moved her lips.
The doctor leaned forward.
—Don't speak yet.
But Valeria needed to do it.
Her voice came out like a thread.
—I already thought… about him.
Sergio stopped fighting for a moment.
Perhaps because he understood that that phrase was his sentence.
Renata, on the other hand, showed no remorse. Only anger.
"You were always going to win," he spat from the floor. "Even if you were dying, you would have won."
Valeria looked at her.
Not with hate.
With immense sadness.
Because she remembered the little girl who used to hide behind her when they heard arguments at home. She remembered the braids, the shared notebooks, the afternoons on the rooftop eating mango with chili.
And yet, that little girl had grown into a woman capable of touching his hair in a hospital bed while plotting his death.
"I didn't win," Valeria whispered. "I survived."
Renata lowered her gaze for the first time.
Then they took her away.
