The garage door finished rising and I already had Sofia behind me, one hand clutching my belt and the other gripping the hem of her pajamas.
I didn’t think. I opened the bedroom door wide so Camila couldn’t lock us in.
I heard her footsteps crossing the room. Low heels. The jingle of her keys. A pause.
Then her voice, too normal for that house, too clean for that moment.
—Have you arrived yet?
I didn’t answer right away. I took out my phone and turned on the camera, not out of bravery, but because Lucía had told me with a firmness that left no room for doubt: if the situation changes, record everything.
Camila appeared in the hallway with the supermarket bag hanging from her forearm. She looked at me. She looked at Sofia hiding behind me. Then she saw the pink backpack next to the bed.
Her face changed for only a second.
Just one.
But I saw it.
“What’s wrong?” she asked, putting the bag down on the floor. “Why do you have it like this?”
I didn’t wait for an explanation. I told him that Sofia was coming out with me right then so she could see a doctor.
Camila tried to approach, and Sofia made a muffled sound, like a sob swallowed halfway through. It was small, but enough. Camila remained still.
At that very moment, the side door rang. Lucia didn’t wait for anyone to invite her in.
She came in wearing red glasses, a messy ponytail, and a blue jacket over her uniform. She exuded the calm of someone who knows exactly where to put their hands.
He didn’t say hello. He looked at Sofia, then at me.
“The girl first,” he said.
Camila straightened up immediately.
—Don’t make a big deal out of it. He bumped his head on the wardrobe. I already put ice on it.
Lucía didn’t even look at her when she answered.
—If a girl says she can’t sleep because of back pain, we’re not in the ice zone.
That was the first time I felt I wasn’t alone. It didn’t lessen the fear. But it brought order to it.
Lucía led Sofía to the bed and asked her to take a deep breath. I stayed to one side, holding her hand.
Camila started talking fast, stumbling over her own sentences. It had been an accident. Sofia was clumsy.
That I always arrived when everything was a mess. That she was tired. That I didn’t understand what it was like to be left alone with a child while I traveled.
All of that could be true and still not justify what I had seen.
Lucía looked up and gave me a quick signal. Photo. Now.
