She helped a lost child, unaware that his father was a multimillionaire.

—Emilio.

—I am Ana Lucía. But everyone calls me Ana.

—And I’m Marta —added the grandmother from the stove—. But you call me ma’am, not grandmother.

That made the boy smile for the first time.

The cell phone was still plugged into the wall. Suddenly it vibrated with a flash. The battery had charged enough to turn it on. Many missed calls appeared on the screen.

Ana opened her eyes wide.

—They’re looking for you a lot.

Emilio’s face paled.

-My dad…

Doña Marta moved closer.

—Well, call him now, you child.

The boy’s fingers trembled as he touched the screen and entered a contact saved only as Dad. The phone rang once.

They answered immediately from the other side.

—Emilio!

The voice was deep, controlled, but cracked underneath.

« Dad, » the boy said, and his relief was so pure that even Doña Marta felt a lump in her throat. « I’m fine. I got lost, but I’m fine. »

Where are you? Who are you with? Did they do anything to you?

—No, Dad. I’m in a house. A lady and a little girl let me in.

Emilio looked up at Doña Marta. She reached out and took the phone.

—I’m Marta Hernández. The child is safe with me.

There was a brief silence, and then the man’s voice came out slower, more measured.

—Ma’am… thank you. Really. Thank you. I’m coming right now. Could you give me the address?

Doña Marta gave it to him without trembling. The man replied instantly:

—I’ll be there in twenty minutes.

When he hung up, the silence inside the house was no longer the same.