—Help? Now? When you’ve already seen the misery and felt remorse.
—It’s not remorse.
—So what is it?
Santiago held her gaze.
-Responsibility.
She was about to answer when her phone vibrated in her sweatshirt pocket. Marisol went white. She glanced at the screen and quickly put the device away.
—Who was it?
-Nobody.
It vibrated again. This time Santiago managed to see the name: Iván Córdova.
He didn’t need anything more.
« It’s him, » he said.
Marisol did not respond, but the silence was enough.
They sat down in a small café inside the supermarket. Luna ate a sweet roll slowly, as if afraid it would run out too soon. Mateo gulped down his milk and then fell asleep. Marisol didn’t let go of the baby for a second.
Santiago listened.
He truly listened, perhaps for the first time in his life.
Iván Córdova appeared when Luna was four years old. He presented himself as a man willing to “help”: rent, groceries, medicine. Then came the jealousy, the control, the threats, the checking of her cell phone, the humiliation disguised as concern. When Marisol tried to leave, he already had her trapped. Mateo was born from that broken relationship. Iván never hit her in front of others, but he knew how to squeeze where it hurt the most: her fear of losing her children.
« She says that if I talk, » Marisol murmured, « she can take my child away. That she has friends at the DIF (Family Services), in the courts, everywhere. »
Santiago remained very still.
I knew that type of man.
Even worse: he knew that kind of power.
Then the phone vibrated again. This time a message arrived:
I saw you go in with him. Don’t get smart. We can sort this out one way or another.
Santiago read the screen.
—He already knows I’m here.
Marisol looked at him with tired eyes.
—I told you not to get involved.
Santiago placed both hands on the table.
—No. You were wrong. I should have gotten involved eight years ago. I’m only just late.
The response didn’t sound heroic. It sounded sad. Irremediable.
That same afternoon, she took Marisol and the children to a discreet house she owned on the outskirts of the city. Not some extravagant mansion, but a quiet retreat with security, a garden, and peace and quiet. Luna paced the living room, looking at everything cautiously, as if afraid of contaminating it with just a breath. Marisol remained tense, standing, still carrying her backpack.
« It’s not charity, » Santiago said. « It’s a refuge. Only until we sort this out. »
—And how do you plan to solve it? With money?
—With truth. And if that’s not enough, with everything else.
They barely slept that night. At seven in the morning, he received a call from his lawyer. There was an anonymous complaint filed with child protection services against Marisol for neglect and child abuse. Santiago understood the move immediately. Iván wanted to get ahead of her, discredit her, and portray her as an incapable mother.
« She’s going to say you’re hiding the children, » Marisol said, trembling. « That I’m unstable. That Luna doesn’t have a recognized father. She’s going to ruin us. »
Santiago remained silent for a few seconds.
Then he made a decision.
—No. I’ll go down first.
He called a press conference that same day.
When he appeared before the microphones, everyone expected a business announcement. No one expected Santiago Ferrer to publicly confess to administrative irregularities from years past related to projects he had signed without proper review. He didn’t admit to crimes he hadn’t committed, but he did acknowledge his negligence, his arrogance, and his habit of delegating what he morally should have taken responsibility for.
His lawyer almost had a heart attack.
The media erupted.
The stocks fell.
His partners called, furious.
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