PART 3
Paola spoke before Luis could save himself.
According to Elena, she cried as soon as she realized Luis wasn’t going to protect her. She said she hadn’t meant to “go this far.” That at first she thought Luis was just fantasizing about leaving me. That he had promised her a new life in Monterrey, an apartment, her own office, trips, money.
Then she confessed the important thing.
Luis had taken out the insurance.
Luis had researched my medical history.
Luis had bought the medication with cash, using Paola as an intermediary.
Luis had decided that my death should look like a complication after childbirth.
And, the most horrifying thing, Luis wasn’t planning on keeping Sofía.
“He says it would be difficult to start over with the baby,” Paola stated. “He wanted to send her to her grandmother’s for a while… until she got used to it.”
Children adapt.
That phrase haunted me for months.
Luis was arrested in Santa Fe, outside his office, in front of his business partners, wearing the blue suit he was so proud of. His mother screamed that it was all an injustice. His lawyer said it was a conversation taken out of context. Luis swore that I was unstable, that my sister hated him, that Sofía had misunderstood.
But the tablet didn’t lie.
The experts confirmed that the audio was authentic. The date matched. The location matched. And the most absurd thing was that the tablet, being linked to Luis’s account, had automatically synced some of the information before he could delete anything.
His own gift had condemned him.
I was given a restraining order.
I was granted sole temporary custody of Sofía and Diego.
Luis couldn’t come near us, the hospital, my house, or my family.
When the judge read the ruling, I was sitting in loose maternity clothes, my body still aching, Diego asleep in his baby carrier, and Sofía holding my hand. Luis looked at the baby only once.
Not with love.
With resentment.
As if Diego had betrayed him by staying alive.
That day, the last part of the wife who still sought answers died inside me.
Only the mother remained.
And that mother was no longer afraid of him.
Going back home was harder than I imagined.
The police had already searched everything. Elena changed the locks, installed cameras, and asked my neighbor, Doña Lupita, to keep an eye on things. Doña Lupita took on the task as if she were leading a national operation.
But walking in with Diego in my arms and Sofía clinging to my waist was like walking into a lie.
The baby’s room was painted gray, the color Luis chose because he said it looked “elegant.” He had assembled the crib. He had bought the nursing chair. Everything smelled of a life that had almost cost us ours.
“We’re going to change it,” I said.
Sofia looked at me.
“Everything?”
