Chương 7
Her hair was pulled into a loose braid.
She had brought a small overnight bag, a thermos, and a plastic container of cut fruit because this was how she responded to catastrophe.
For one second neither moved.
Then Elena put everything down.
Sofía stepped into her arms.
Her mother held her carefully at first, afraid of hurting her.
Sofía gripped the back of Elena’s cardigan and began crying against her shoulder.
Elena did not tell her to be strong.
She did not say everything happened for a reason.
She did not say they could try again.
She simply held her.
When Sofía finally pulled away, Elena touched her cheek.
“Where is Andrés?”
“I don’t know.”
“Good.”
“Mom.”
“What?”
“I can’t do this if you start screaming about him.”
“I’m not screaming.”
“You’re doing it with your face.”
Elena’s mouth tightened.
“I drove two hours doing it with my face.”
Despite herself, Sofía laughed once.
Then she winced.
Elena immediately looked terrified.
“I’m fine.”
“You are clearly not fine.”
“I mean the laugh didn’t kill me.”
Elena sat beside her on the sofa.
“What do you need?”
Sofía almost said she did not know.
Instead, she looked at her phone.
There were five new messages from Andrés and one missed call from an unfamiliar number.
The final message read, We need to talk before you make decisions you can’t undo.
Sofía showed it to her mother.
Elena read it once.
Then she handed the phone back.
“What decision does he think belongs to him?”
Sofía looked at the dark screen.
“For years, probably all of them.”
At nine, Lucía called.
The neighbor’s camera had captured part of the exterior confrontation.
It showed Iván inside the SUV, Sofía retrieving her keys, Carmen following her into the doorway, and Sofía trying to leave several minutes later before disappearing back inside the entrance.
It did not show the kick.
It did show something else.
Andrés had come outside less than a minute after Sofía drove away.
He had stood beside Iván for almost two minutes.
Then Ramiro joined them.
The three men talked.
No one called an ambulance.
No one followed her.
No one appeared panicked.
Only after several more minutes did Iván take out his phone.
Lucía’s voice remained neutral.
“The video does not establish what happened inside.”
Sofía stared at the wall.
“I understand.”
“But it may help establish what happened immediately afterward.”
“What did Andrés say in his statement?”
“That he was in shock and tried to understand what had happened before contacting you.”
Sofía looked at the clock.
On the video, he had enough presence of mind to talk with his father.
Enough composure to stay.
Enough loyalty to remain there while she drove herself bleeding to the hospital.
Her mother watched her face.
“What?”
Sofía lowered the phone.
“He didn’t freeze.”
Elena waited.
“He chose a side.”
For the first time since the hospital, Sofía said it without trying to make the sentence hurt less.
Elena did not answer right away.
She reached for the thermos instead, unscrewed the lid, and poured coffee into the plastic cup as if Sofía had merely told her something unpleasant about work.
The restraint made Sofía trust her more.
“Do you want to go home with me?” Elena asked.
Sofía looked toward the window.
Traffic moved below Maribel’s apartment, buses coughing at the intersection, delivery motorcycles slipping between cars, people carrying grocery bags and backpacks and insulated lunch boxes.
“I don’t know where home is right now.”
Elena nodded once.
“Then don’t decide today.”
Sofía’s phone vibrated.
Andrés again.
She let it stop.
“Do you want me to block him?”
“No.”
“Why?”
“Because I want to see what he says when he thinks I might still answer.”
Elena gave her a long look.
“That sounds like something I would do.”
“I know.”
“And that is not necessarily praise.”
Sofía almost smiled.
The unfamiliar number called again.
This time she answered.
A man introduced himself as an attorney representing Ramiro.
Sofía sat straighter.
“I’m not discussing anything with you.”
“I understand, señora Herrera.”
“Then why are you calling me?”
“I’m hoping to clarify whether there might be room to resolve the family component of this privately.”
Sofía’s fingers tightened around the phone.
“What family component?”
The attorney paused.
“The disagreement preceding the incident.”
“Your client kicked me.”
“I’m not asking you to change your account.”
“You just called it an incident.”
“I’m trying to speak carefully.”
“So am I.”
Elena was watching her now.
The attorney lowered his voice.
“Mr. Herrera is concerned that emotions are extremely high.”
Sofía looked at her mother.
“Which Mr. Herrera?”
Another pause.
“Ramiro Herrera.”
“That’s helpful because there seem to be several men named Herrera worried about everybody’s emotions except mine.”
The attorney did not respond to that.
He asked whether she had retained counsel.
“Not yet.”
“I would encourage you to do so.”
“That may be the first useful thing you’ve said.”
She ended the call.
Elena held out her hand.
“Give me the number.”
“No.”
“I’m not going to call him.”
“Your face says otherwise.”
“My face has suffered a lot since sunrise.”
Sofía saved the number under Ramiro Attorney.
The label looked ridiculous.
She stared at it until the letters blurred.
At ten thirty, Maribel returned from the hospital for a break she had no business taking.
“You left work?”
“I have friends in charge of schedules.”
“You mean you bullied someone.”
“That is an ugly accusation.”
She placed a paper bag on the table.
Inside were empanadas, yogurt, and another box of crackers.
Sofía pointed at the crackers.
“Get those out of this house.”
Maribel laughed.
It was the first uncomplicated sound Sofía had heard all morning.
For fifteen minutes they talked about nothing important.
One of Maribel’s patients had tried to hide a prohibited electric kettle under his blanket.
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A resident had spilled coffee on a printer.
Benito had vomited inside a shoe two nights earlier and then sat beside it looking proud.
