Your face would not let you.
“She threatened my family,” you said.
His expression changed.
Something boyish disappeared.
In its place was a man you had seen only in flashes, the man trapped under polished obedience, the one who had survived Beatriz long enough to know her methods. He walked toward you and held out his hand.
“Give me the phone.”
“No.”
“Carmen.”
“No,” you said again. “Because you’ll call her and fight, and she’ll enjoy knowing she scared us.”
“She did scare us.”
“Yes,” you said. “But she doesn’t get proof.”
He stared at you.
Then, slowly, he nodded.
For the first time, it felt like you were not just his rescue or his rebellion.
You were his partner.
The next morning, Beatriz struck first.
Your bank app stopped working.
At first, you thought it was a glitch. Then Abril said her boss had called, suddenly “concerned” about her schedule and asking whether she needed unpaid leave. Your mother’s landlord came by before noon with a printed notice about overdue fees that had never been mentioned before.
By evening, your school account showed a hold.
No tuition payment processed.
You stared at the screen in disbelief.
Alejandro sat beside you at the kitchen table, jaw clenched, looking like every breath cost him.
“She did this,” you said.
“Yes.”
“How?”
“My mother owns favors. She collects people the way other people collect art.”
You slammed the laptop shut.
“I can’t fight that.”
He took your hand.
“You don’t have to fight her alone.”
You wanted to believe him.
But he had nothing.
No job. No account. No influence he could use without stepping back into the cage. Beatriz had thrown him into your world and then started burning the ground around you, knowing love feels different when everyone near it starts choking.
On the third day, Alejandro found work.
Not through his family.
Not through friends.
Through your neighbor Martín, who ran a small delivery business and needed someone who could manage schedules, inventory, and angry clients without panicking. Alejandro showed up in borrowed jeans and a plain shirt, looking absurdly elegant beside stacks of plastic crates.
Martín stared at him for a long time.
“You know Excel?”
Alejandro blinked.
“Yes.”
“You know how to lift boxes?”
A pause.
“I can learn.”
Martín looked at you.
