And now she was walking toward him.
“Papá.”
Sofía stopped beside his chair.
Don Chema’s eyes filled with tears.
“What are you doing here?”
She crouched beside him.
“What you taught me to do.”
“What?”
“Showing up when someone needs me.”
That broke him.
His shoulders shook once.
Then again.
“I didn’t want you girls involved.”
“I know.”
“I told the neighbor not to call you.”
“We know that too.”
“You have your lives. Your work. Your families.”
Sofía reached for his rough hand.
“And we have those lives because of you.”
Behind her, Valeria was already crying.
Lucía wasn’t.
Lucía was staring directly at Principal Robles.
And there was something in her expression that made Chema uneasy.
Not anger.
Recognition.
Judge Elena Vargas cleared her throat.
“Miss…?”
“Sofía Hernández.”
“And your relationship to the defendant?”
Sofía stood.
“He is my father.”
