“Put me on speaker,” I said.
“Dad, what’s going on?”
“Just do it.”
A click.
“Okay,” Daniela said. “You’re on speaker.”
I let a second pass.
Then—
“Héctor,” I said, “we need to talk.”
Another pause.
Then his voice.
Calm.
Measured.
“I’m here.”
I leaned back slightly in the seat.
“Where are you planning to be tonight?”
Silence.
Then Daniela again.
“What kind of question is that?”
I didn’t answer her.
“Héctor?” I repeated.
“I’ll be home,” he said. “Why?”
His tone didn’t change.
Not even slightly.
That was the problem.
“Stay there,” I said.
Then I hung up.
Emiliano blinked.
“What now?” he whispered.
I looked at the gas station lights.
At the reflection of my own face in the windshield.
I barely recognized the man staring back.
“We go home,” I said.
The drive back felt longer than it should have.
Every turn.
Every stoplight.
Every second stretched.
By the time we reached the house, the sky had darkened.
The porch light was on.
That small detail made my stomach twist.
Marina always turned it on when I was late.
Out of habit.
Out of care.
Or—
Out of something else?
I parked.
Turned to Emiliano.
“Stay close to me,” I said.
He nodded.
