—Is it that serious?
I looked at Sofia behind the glass, asleep with an IV in her arm.
—More serious than I can explain over the phone.
When Sofia woke up, she didn't ask if she was going to die. She didn't ask about the hospital. She didn't ask about her fever.
Asked:
—Is Mom angry because you brought me? Hospitals cost a lot…
I had to look away so I wouldn't break down in front of her.
That same day, social services opened a case. The doctor confirmed negligence. My lawyer prepared everything. And while Miguel kept sending me messages from the high seas, I signed papers to ensure Sofía would never sleep in that house again.
But the twist that chilled my blood came in the afternoon.
A neighbor, Mrs. Carmen, went to the hospital and looked for me. Her eyes were red.
—Don Roberto… I heard the girl crying before they left. Paola told her that if she called anyone, they would send her back to DIF (the child welfare agency).
I remained motionless.
—Are you sure?
The lady lowered her gaze.
—I also have a video from my garage camera. You can hear everything.
When I saw the video, I heard my daughter-in-law's voice, clear, cold, and shameless:
"We don't need troublemakers in this family. Remember where you came from."
And just when I thought things couldn't get any worse, another message arrived from Miguel:
“If you did something legal, you’re going to regret it. Sofia is ours as long as it suits us.”
That's when I knew that part 3 wasn't just going to be true.
Justice was going to be served.
