Could not.
I looked at the officers, took a deep breath, and went to the living room. I took out the blue folder and put it on the table. I didn’t have to explain anything. The papers spoke for themselves.
The policeman opened the first case, read two pages, then another one. His expression changed little by little, almost imperceptible, until he finally looked up and said, with a dry tone that chilled the atmosphere:
“Madam… Are you serious?”
Mariana remained motionless for a moment. As if he had not foreseen that there was evidence, dates, signatures, stamps. As if he thought it was enough to show up and scream louder than the others.
But reality doesn’t work like that.
The agent continued to review: the guardianship resolution, notifications of hearings he never appeared at, intermittent contact records… and the long periods in which he simply disappeared, leaving no address, job or trace.
The other police officer asked to speak with Diego and Valeria separately.
Mariana reacted immediately. He protested, raised his voice, said that I had manipulated them, that I had washed their heads for years. But she didn’t sound like a mother anymore. He sounded like someone who had come to impose a version… not to hear the truth.
Diego was the first to speak. I was seventeen years old and had a calm that broke me inside. He didn’t scream, he didn’t exaggerate. He only told what he remembered… and what he didn’t.
He said the last time he lived with his mother he was two or three years old. That I had been there every birthday, every punishment, every school reunion, every illness, every night of fear.
He also said that Mariana had reappeared a few times, almost always to promise something she did not keep.
Valeria confirmed the same, with a trembling but firm voice. He said he didn’t want to go with a woman he barely knew… and that the only person who always stayed was me.
It was at that moment when something started to fall into place.
It wasn’t just a scene. It wasn’t just an impulse.
There was a reason.
And he appeared twenty minutes later, when one of the agents received a call. He answered, listened silently… and his expression changed.
The children’s biological father, Jorge Salazar, had died three months ago in a work accident in Monterrey. He had not had a relationship with them in years, but he had left compensation of several million pesos and a house in the process of succession.
Suddenly everything made sense.
It wasn’t because of Diego.
It wasn’t because of Valeria.
Mariana had returned because someone explained to her that if she reappeared as a mother and managed to take them, she would have access to decisions, money… and control.
When the policeman hung up, the silence in the house became heavy, almost unbreathable. Mariana understood it. He knew he was no longer in control… and changed his strategy.
He started to cry. He said that he had been young, that he made mistakes, that I had taken away his children taking advantage of their worst moment.
For the first time in years, I didn’t see her as a daughter.w
I saw her for what she was: an adult responsible for everything she had done… and everything she decided not to do.
