I looked at the bracelet.
—But someone paid that price for me.
María Elena got up slowly.
—I don’t want to destroy your life, mija.
His voice trembled.
—I just wanted to see you. Knowing that you were okay.
I looked at her.
I saw the worn hands.
Broken nails.
The broom leaning against the bench.
Thirty years looking for me.
—Why didn’t you give up?
She smiled sadly.
—Because a mother doesn’t stop searching.
I felt tears burning my eyes.
My mother spoke in an icy voice.
—If you go with her, don’t come back.
I looked at her.
Waiting… I don’t know what.
But there was nothing.
No regret.
No fear.
Just pride.
And I understood something that broke my soul.
For her, I had always been a victory.
Not a daughter.
I approached María Elena.
—Do you have somewhere to sleep?
