PART 2
At dawn, they stopped taking precautions.
Daniel walked down the hallway with Lucía in his arms as if the decision were already his. Camila walked beside him, carrying a pink diaper bag embroidered with her initials: C.R.
They hadn’t even waited.
My mother was carrying a white blanket, the one I had bought months before in Coyoacán, imagining my daughter’s first day out of the hospital. Now she held it as if she were helping with a delivery, not a robbery.
I pressed the call button for the nurse.
No one came.
Of course, no one came.
Santa Regina Hospital belonged to a network where Daniel’s family donated millions. His last name was on a gold plaque next to the chapel. His father had financed an entire intensive care unit. In that place, my pain didn’t weigh as much as his money.
From the hallway, I heard Camila’s voice.
“I told you I wasn’t going to fight. Mariana always stays silent.”
Daniel chuckled softly.
“That’s why it worked.”
My hands started to tremble. Not from fear. From rage.
I turned my head and saw my cell phone on the table. Daniel hadn’t hidden it because he believed that injured women used their phones to cry, not to defend themselves.
I picked it up with difficulty. The screen was smeared with dried blood from my finger. I unlocked it.
The recorder was still playing.
I had activated it before going into surgery, right after receiving a message from Camila at midnight:
“After tonight, everyone will get what they deserve.”
Daniel said I was paranoid. I called it experience.
I listened to snippets of the recording at a low volume.
Daniel’s voice:
“Turn it up a little. I need her to not remember exactly what she signed.”
Then Camila:
“What if she says later that she didn’t agree?”
Daniel:
“That’s what witnesses are for.”
Then my mother’s voice, harsh, unfamiliar:
“Mariana has always been selfish. This will teach her to share.”
I felt like throwing up.
But the worst audio came next.
Daniel was on speakerphone with the hospital’s administrative director, Dr. Salcedo.
“The birth certificate shouldn’t be sent to the Civil Registry yet,” Daniel said. “We need time to sort out Camila’s status as a responsible mother.”
Salcedo replied:
“As long as the donation is released this week, I can delay the birth report.”
I almost laughed.
They had chosen the wrong woman.
I ripped the IV out of my arm. A trickle of blood ran down my wrist. I tried to get up, and the room shook as if the floor were floating. I grabbed the bed, took a deep breath, and waited for the darkness to clear.
Then I dialed.
Judge Elena Vargas answered on the second ring. I had worked with her on urgent custody cases. She was one of those women who didn’t raise their voices because they didn’t need to.
“Mariana?”
“My husband is trying to take my newborn daughter away with forged documents.”
Silence.
“Where are you?”
“Santa Regina Hospital. Maternity ward.”
“Do you have proof?”
“Recordings, messages, names, and the attempt to alter the birth certificate.”
Her voice changed.
“Stay in a visible place. Don’t threaten. Don’t insult. Just tell the truth.”
I looked at my legs. My gown was open. Blood was dripping onto the floor.
“I think I’ll be visible.”
I walked barefoot to the door. Each step burned. I left a red trail on the hospital’s white tiles.
When I stepped into the hallway, a nurse put her hands to her mouth.
Camila turned around first.
Her face contorted.
“What are you doing up?”
Daniel stood motionless, Lucía pressed against his chest.
I picked up my phone.
“I’m here for my daughter.”
My mother stood in front of Camila.
“Mariana, you’re upset.”
“No,” I said. “I’m awake.”
The elevator doors opened.
Two police officers and a prosecutor stepped out, followed by Judge Vargas wearing a black coat over her pajamas. Three members of the hospital board also arrived, pale, disheveled, and furious.
Daniel swallowed hard.
Camila clutched Lucía to her chest.
My daughter cried.
And just as the prosecutor asked for the baby to be released, Daniel said something that froze everyone in their tracks.
“If Mariana talks, I’ll tell everyone who that girl really belongs to.”
And that’s when I understood that the monster still had his last lie.
