“When the baby is born, we’ll say it was a complication. No one questions a grieving mother.”
Camila managed to answer,
“My son does not belong to you.”
Rodrigo stepped closer to the phone, not realizing it was recording.
“That child would inherit Julian’s share. We can’t allow that.”
Then there was a crash.
The video ended.
I removed the headphones.
I did not cry.
Not yet.
“Where is my son?” I asked.
Dr. Ana Lucía’s expression filled with sorrow.
“Come with me.”
She opened another door and led me into a restricted newborn care area. Soft lights glowed. Small machines beeped quietly. Nurses moved with careful hands.
