Sara sat on a small concrete bench bordering the park, her gaze lost somewhere in the gray afternoon as she hugged her arms to fend off the cold. She wore a tattered old sweatshirt, the elbow worn through, and a pair of pants so faded she no longer remembered their original color. Hunger gnawed at her, but it was a familiar sensation she could push aside. What truly unsettled her this evening was the looming question of where she would sleep. The shelter where she sometimes found a bed closed early on Mondays, and it was already too late. She had spent the previous night walking the streets aimlessly and had no desire to repeat the experience, though it seemed she had few other options.

Just then, across the street, a boy of about six ran with wild abandon, his hands in the air as he laughed and chased a flock of pigeons. Suddenly, he tripped on a gnarled tree root buckling the sidewalk and fell flat on his face. The impact made a dull, heavy sound. Sara was on her feet in an instant. She wasn’t the only one who saw it happen, but she was the only one who moved to help.

The child was crying, rubbing his frightened eyes with balled-up fists. A raw scrape was already forming on his forehead, and his shoelaces were completely undone. Sara knelt, keeping a slight distance, and spoke to him in a calm voice. She didn’t hesitate; all she saw was a small creature in need of help. She could feel the wary eyes of other pedestrians on her, their fear palpable, as if her worn clothes made her a threat.

But the boy, unafraid, looked up at her, his cheeks streaked with tears. Gently, she brushed the dirt from his pants and asked if he was okay. He could only nod, his sobs softening to quiet whimpers. She noticed one of his shoelaces was so tangled that if he tried to stand, he’d surely fall again.

So, without another word, she knelt lower, took his small shoe in her hand, and began to carefully tie the lace. The boy stopped crying for a moment, simply watching her. He didn’t speak or pull away. After she finished the first shoe, she started on the second. Sara performed the simple task with a level of care one might reserve for something truly important—and in that moment, it was.

What Sara didn’t know was that a few yards away, a man in a dark car parked by the curb was watching her every move. Alejandro, dressed in a gray suit, had gotten out just seconds after his son had run too far ahead. He’d been following him with his eyes, and his heart had leaped into his throat when he saw him fall. He was about to rush over when he saw someone else get there first.

His initial reaction upon seeing it was a homeless woman was a flicker of hesitation, but that vanished as he watched how she treated his son, Mateo. Alejandro remained still, observing how this stranger helped his child not with pity or haste, but with genuine tenderness, as if she knew him.

It was then that he heard his son’s laugh. Mateo, his cheeks still damp, let out a small chuckle as Sara finished the final knot with a little flourish. She made a funny face at him, and the boy couldn’t help but giggle. “Are you better now?” she asked, her voice soft.

The boy nodded again and pointed toward the car. “My dad’s over there,” he said, raising his hand. Sara turned and froze. Alejandro was already walking toward them, tall and well-dressed, his expression serious but not angry. Quite the opposite. When he reached them, he crouched beside his son, giving him a quick once-over. “Are you hurt?” he asked, examining his forehead.

“No, she fixed me,” Mateo said, pointing to Sara. She looked down, unsure whether to stay or leave. She felt she had done what she needed to do and was now intruding on a private moment. But before she could stand, Alejandro spoke to her. “Thank you for helping him.” “It was nothing,” she mumbled, not meeting his eyes. “No, it was,” he insisted. “It was a lot.”

“Are you okay?” Sara looked up, surprised. It had been a long time since anyone had asked her that. She made a so-so gesture and tried to leave, but the boy stopped her, grabbing her arm. “Are you leaving?” he asked in a small voice. “I have to, champ.” “But will you come back?” Sara crouched down again and smiled. “I don’t know. I’m around here sometimes.” Mateo hugged her, without fear or hesitation.

The moment was so pure that it tightened a knot in Alejandro’s chest. He didn’t know why, but seeing his son embrace this woman, a complete stranger just minutes before, stirred something deep inside him. “Would you let me buy you something to eat?” Alejandro asked. Sara looked at him as if he’d said something utterly bizarre. “That’s not necessary, really.”

“I’m not offering out of pity. I just want to thank you. We’re going to have dinner nearby. Will you join us?” She thought for a moment, her eyes glancing down at her frayed clothes, her dirty hands, her worn-out sneakers. She felt out of place, but she also felt the gnawing hunger. More than that, she felt that for the first time in a long while, someone was seeing her not as a problem or a burden, but simply as a person. Alejandro didn’t press; he waited in silence.

“Okay,” she said finally. “But nothing expensive, alright?” Mateo jumped with joy and took her hand as if they were lifelong friends. Sara couldn’t help but smile as they walked. Heading toward the car, people stared at them with confused expressions: a well-dressed man, a beaming child, and a woman in dirty clothes, her hair pulled back in a makeshift bun.

But none of the three paid them any mind. In that moment, the only thing that mattered was that something, completely unplanned, had begun to shift. Sara didn’t return to the park the next day, or the day after. After that dinner, she felt strange. She had eaten well, yes, but the combination of a hot meal, kind attention, and gentle words left her head spinning. She wasn’t used to it.

She figured she would never see them again, that the boy would forget her in a matter of days, just as people forget things that are inconvenient to remember. But that wasn’t what happened. Alejandro didn’t forget either. That night, as he stared blankly at the television, his mind kept replaying the scene.

There was something about that woman that captured his attention—not her clothes, or her way of speaking, or her humor, but something deeper he couldn’t quite name. And then there was Mateo. Ever since his mother’s death, he hadn’t bonded with anyone—not a single nanny, teacher, or even the psychologist they’d recommended. With Sara, something different had happened.

He didn’t just accept her; he sought her out. Three days passed before Alejandro took Mateo back to the park. The boy didn’t want to go anywhere else, asking only for “the nice lady,” as he called her. Alejandro knew he couldn’t make any promises, but something told him they might see her again.

So he took him, without saying much, hoping for a bit of serendipity. Sara was there, but not on her usual bench. This time, she was standing near a corn cart, helping a woman who sold esquites. She had asked for a chance to help carry the tray in exchange for dinner.

The vendor, who knew her by sight and knew she was harmless, had agreed. Mateo spotted her before his father did. He bolted from the car, barely waiting for the door to be opened, and ran straight to her. Sara gasped when she saw him coming, nearly dropping the tray of cups she was holding.

The boy threw his arms around her neck as if he’d known her his whole life. “You came back!” Mateo shouted, grinning from ear to ear. Sara laughed. It was impossible not to. “You too, champ. I thought you’d forgotten about me.” “I looked for you,” he said with all the seriousness a six-year-old could muster. Alejandro arrived, walking at a calm pace. Sara saw him and grew a little nervous, not out of fear, but because she wasn’t sure if it was okay to be so happy to see him.

Alejandro greeted her with a nod, as if they were old friends. She returned the gesture. “Thanks for not disappearing,” he said simply. “It wasn’t for you,” Sara joked. “It was because Doña Carmen let me carry her tray. I’m earning my esquite.” “I’ll pay for it,” Alejandro offered without thinking. “No, don’t you dare. I’m earning this one.”

Alejandro smiled. He liked her direct, unfiltered way of talking. It was refreshing. Most people he dealt with measured every word. “Do you have a few minutes?” he asked. “Mateo wants you to play, to push him on the swing. He says you push better than I do.”

Sara let out a genuine, effortless laugh. She handed the tray back to Doña Carmen, who was returning, and asked for a short break. “Go on, but just for a little while. I need you to sweep up after.” The park was almost empty. The sun was beginning to set, and a cool breeze rustled the tree branches. Mateo climbed onto the swing with boundless energy.

Sara pushed him, strongly but always carefully, making sure he didn’t fly too high. Alejandro watched them from a bench, his arms crossed, leaning back as if he had all the time in the world. After a few minutes, Mateo got tired and went to find a ball someone had left behind. Sara sat on the bench next to Alejandro, with no real plan.

She was sweaty, dusty, and felt out of place again, but something kept her there. “Do you always come to this park?” Alejandro asked. “When I can. I don’t always feel like being around people.” “I understand.” A moment of silence passed, one that didn’t feel awkward. They both watched the boy play. There was something peaceful about the moment.

It was something neither of them could explain, but it felt right. “Do you have children?” she asked suddenly. “Just Mateo. His mother passed away two years ago.” “I’m sorry.” “Me too.” Sara looked down, not out of sadness, but because she didn’t know what else to say. Alejandro observed her from the corner of his eye. He was curious about who she really was, how she had ended up in her situation.

He didn’t dare ask yet, but he wanted to know more. “And you,” she said, turning the tables, “do you always dress like you’re heading to a board meeting?” Alejandro let out a short, sincere laugh. “Habit. I work for a company that manufactures industrial parts. I have to run around all day.” “Sounds boring.” “It is.” They fell silent again. Mateo came running back with the ball in his hands, interrupting them.

He gave it to Sara as if it were a gift and then ran off to climb a slide. She held the ball and smiled. “That kid is different,” she said. “I don’t know how to explain it, but he has something.” “He has a lot of his mother in him,” Alejandro replied, his gaze distant. Sara looked at him again, this time more closely.

He wasn’t the typical absent father or the arrogant rich man she had encountered before. He had something broken inside him, just like her, and that, though unsaid, made them similar. Their goodbye was quick. She gave the ball back to Mateo and promised she might see him another day. Alejandro asked for her name, and she gave it without a second thought. “Sara,” she said. “Sara Leticia, but nobody calls me that.”

“Alejandro,” he replied, as if it were necessary. “I know. The champ already told on you.” They both laughed. Then she walked away without a formal farewell, as if not wanting to make a big deal of it. But as she headed back to the esquite cart, she couldn’t resist looking back. Mateo blew her a kiss.

She caught it in the air and tucked it away in her heart, where no one could see. On Saturday morning, the sun was already beating down. The park was bustling with families, balloons, the faint sound of music from a distant speaker, and children running everywhere.

Sara walked slowly among the trees, in no hurry. She had slept little, but she had managed to get a spot at the shelter. She still carried the scent of cheap soap on her clothes, but at least she felt clean and a little more at peace. She was thinking of seeing if Doña Carmen would let her help again, but something stopped her. A few yards away, near the playground, she heard a familiar little voice shouting her name. “Sara! Sara!”

She turned, and there he was, his cheeks flushed and his t-shirt soaked with sweat. Mateo was running toward her with his arms wide open. Behind him, Alejandro walked, carrying a backpack and a cap. Sara’s eyes widened in surprise. “You again.” “Yep, I told you I’d be back.” The boy leaped on her as if she were some kind of prize, and she barely managed to catch him.

She set him down immediately; he was bigger and heavier than he looked. Alejandro arrived a moment later. “Good morning,” he said, looking at her calmly. “Hi. I didn’t expect to see you guys today.” “Mateo insisted. He didn’t want to go anywhere else. I brought him just in case we got lucky.” “And we did!” Mateo added proudly. Sara smiled; she couldn’t help it. This natural way they had of entering her life left her feeling confused.

She didn’t understand why, but she felt less alone when they were near. “Have you had breakfast?” Alejandro asked directly. “More or less.” “Want to join us for a picnic?” Sara raised an eyebrow. “A picnic?” Alejandro opened the backpack and showed her wrapped sandwiches, a couple of juice boxes, apples, and chips.

Nothing fancy, nothing from an expensive restaurant, just homemade food. “Mateo helped prepare everything.” “I cut the ham!” the boy announced as if it were a world-class achievement. Sara laughed. “Alright, but if the ham is too thick, I’m not responsible.” They found a shady spot and spread a blanket on the grass.

Alejandro sat with his legs stretched out, Sara with her knees pulled to her chest, and Mateo fluttered around them like a happy little insect. They ate amidst laughter, the boy’s unfiltered questions, and their honest answers. Alejandro didn’t ask anything about Sara’s life, where she came from, or what she did. He just offered her a peaceful moment, and that, unsaid, was worth a great deal.

After the picnic, Mateo wanted to hunt for lizards in the bushes, and Sara went with him. Alejandro watched them from a distance, his eyes squinted against the sun, but his gaze was soft. At that moment, he thought about how long it had been since he’d seen his son so happy, and he realized he hadn’t felt this way in years either. As the sun began to set and the heat faded, Mateo fell asleep on the blanket, his head resting on a backpack.

Sara covered him with a jacket and sat down next to Alejandro. “He’s exhausted,” she said. “Looks like he ran a marathon.” “He’s happy with you,” he replied without much thought. Sara fell silent. She didn’t know what to say. Alejandro didn’t press the issue. “I’m not used to this,” she said after a while. “To what?” “To people looking at me the way you’re looking at me now. As if I’m worth something.”

Alejandro turned his head and looked at her directly. “And how am I supposed to see you?” “I don’t know. Like everyone else does. Like I’m in the way.” “I don’t think that.” She took a deep breath, clearly wanting to say more but holding back. She didn’t want to ruin whatever was happening. “I know this isn’t normal,” he said suddenly. “I know.”

“It’s not common for a woman you met on the street to become so close to your son. But I’m also not the kind of person who does what everyone expects.” Sara looked at him warily. “Are you telling me that this thing between us…” “I’m telling you that Mateo needs someone like you around. And I believe that doesn’t happen by accident.” She lowered her gaze.

Her heart was pounding, but she didn’t want him to notice. “Look, I don’t want you to think I have some weird plan,” Alejandro continued. “I’m just saying that if you want, you can spend more time with us. You don’t have to decide now, but think about it.” Sara didn’t respond. She just looked at him for a moment.

Then she nodded, without smiling, without saying yes or no. It was a small, honest gesture, and that was enough. When Mateo woke up, he was a bit disoriented but happy. Sara helped him up, brushed the leaves from his hair, and gave him the last of the juice. The boy looked at her as if she were part of his family, as if she had always been there.

Before they left, Alejandro offered to give her a ride. She refused, as always. “If people see me getting out of a car like yours, they won’t believe I didn’t steal anything,” she joked. “Alright,” he said. “But at least let me walk with you a little way.” He walked with her and Mateo to the park entrance.

There, they said their goodbyes. The boy hugged her tightly again and made her promise to come back the next day. Sara didn’t promise anything, but she planned to. Before leaving, Alejandro asked for her phone number. Sara pulled a crumpled piece of paper from her pocket. “I don’t have a cell, but this is the number for the shelter where I sometimes stay.

If they leave me a message, I’ll get it.” “I’ll write it down.” She walked away at a steady pace, looking straight ahead, but her mind was racing. That afternoon, something inside her had shifted. She didn’t know what to call it, but she felt it, and in her world, that was more than enough. It was Monday morning, and the park was nearly deserted. Just a couple of people walking, an old man exercising, and a few women chatting near the entrance.

Sara sat on her usual bench with a cup of coffee someone had given her outside the shelter. She had no plans for the day. Maybe go to the market to see if she could find some work, or walk around the neighborhood looking for a quick job. But she didn’t even have time to think. In the distance, she saw a figure that was becoming familiar. Alejandro was walking alone this time, without Mateo, wearing a white shirt and dark sunglasses.

He walked with a determined stride, as if he already knew he would find her. “You again,” Sara said as soon as he was in front of her. “Does it bother you?” “Depends. Did you bring coffee?” He laughed and sat beside her without asking permission. “No, but I brought an idea.” “An idea?” “More like a proposal.” Sara gave him a suspicious sideways glance. Not because of him, exactly, but because her instincts told her that when something sounds too good to be true, there’s usually a catch. “I want to hire you,” Alejandro said bluntly.

“What?” “Yes, I want you to work for me.” “What are you talking about? You want me to help with your paperwork or something?” “I want you to take care of Mateo.” Sara let out a disbelieving laugh. She thought it was a joke, but when she saw Alejandro’s face, she realized he was serious. “Are you crazy?” “A little. But I’m also desperate.

Mateo doesn’t get along with anyone, he doesn’t trust anyone, he doesn’t talk to anyone as much as he does with you.” “That doesn’t mean I can take care of him.” “I’m not asking you to raise him or become his mother. I just want you to spend time with him, to be with him, to give him some of the calm that you give him when you’re together.”

Sara fell silent, taking a sip of her now-cold coffee. It was the craziest thing anyone had proposed to her in a long time, but also the most human. “And how do you know I won’t steal something from your house or hurt your son?” “I don’t. But I trust what I see.” “And what do you see?” “A woman who tied a stranger’s shoelaces without expecting anything in return. You can’t fake that.”

Sara scratched her forehead and sighed. She was nervous, uncomfortable, but she also felt a strange fluttering in her chest, as if a part of her wanted to say yes. “Where do you live?” “In Lomas del Sur.” “You’re kidding. You want to bring a woman like me to a house like that?” “Yes.” “And what will your family say? Your friends? Your rich crowd?” “I don’t care what they say.” Sara looked at him more intently. He didn’t seem to be lying.

He didn’t seem like the type to say things just to be nice. Still, the fear was there. “Look, I don’t know,” she said finally. “I have a past, Alejandro. One you’re not going to like. I’ve been on the streets for years. I’ve done things I’m not proud of. I’m not someone who can take care of a child like yours.”

“Have you hurt anyone?” “No.” “Have you stolen?” “Yes.” “Are you still doing it?” “Not for a long time.” “Then I don’t care about your past. I care about what you do today.” Sara looked at him fixedly, searching for a hint of mockery, something that would make her feel foolish for believing him, but she found nothing of the sort.

“And what would I have to do?” “Be with Mateo in the afternoons. Pick him up from school, take him to the park, play with him—what you already do, but with a bit more structure. I’ll take care of everything else.” “And you’ll pay me?” “Of course.” “And give me clothes? A place to shower? A place to sleep?” “Yes.” “And if one day I get tired of it and leave?” “Then you leave, and it’s fine. But at least try.”

Sara ran her hands over her face. She was overwhelmed. Her mind was going a mile a minute. It was too much trust, too generous an offer, too much for a life like hers. “Can I take the day to think about it?” “Take all the time you need. But I want you to know something. Mateo is waiting for you. He asks about you every day. And if you say no, he’s going to be sad. I’m not saying it to pressure you, just so you know.”

Alejandro stood up, took a card from his wallet, and handed it to her. “Here’s the address. If you decide to come, ask for Ana. She’ll let you in.” Sara took the card carefully, as if it might break. She watched him walk away and tucked the paper into her pocket.

She sat for a while longer, unmoving, looking at the park, the dry grass, the empty coffee cup in her hands. She thought about Mateo, his laugh, how he had given her that old ball as if it were a treasure. She thought about the possibility of having a roof over her head, even if just for a few days. And she thought about the last time someone had trusted her. She couldn’t remember.

That afternoon, she didn’t go to the market or back to the shelter. She walked aimlessly, turning everything over in her mind, talking to herself in a low voice as if someone might answer. Life hadn’t given her many opportunities, and the few she’d had, she’d squandered. But this one felt different. When night fell, she still had the card in her hand.

She stared at it as if it were speaking to her, her fingers trembling. She didn’t know if she had the courage to knock on that door. She didn’t know if she deserved it. But she knew she wanted to try. Sara stood before the gray gate, her heart pounding in her throat. She had walked three blocks from the last bus stop, and though it wasn’t far, her legs felt as if she’d run a marathon.

The house was enormous, the kind with cameras on every corner, electric fences, and one of those locks with no button or key, just a tiny intercom. Sara hesitated. She held Alejandro’s card between her fingers for ten minutes before she worked up the nerve to press the button. A woman’s voice crackled through the speaker.

“Who is it?” “I’m… uh, I’m Sara. Alejandro told me to ask for Ana.” A brief silence. “One moment.” A few seconds passed, and the gate buzzed open. Sara entered with short, tentative steps. The lawn was so perfectly manicured it looked like it belonged in a magazine. The flowers were arranged by color, the bushes trimmed as if with a ruler. Everything was so clean that Sara felt ashamed to walk on it.

The front door was already open. Inside, a woman in her fifties with her hair in a tight bun and a sharp gaze waited with her arms crossed. She wore a spotless gray apron. She had the face of someone who missed nothing. “You’re Sara?” “Yes. Good morning.” “Come in. Mr. Alejandro told me you were coming. Follow me.” Sara crossed the threshold, and the house swallowed her whole.

Everything was white, vast, with the scent of furniture polish and freshly mopped floors. She walked behind Ana as if on thin ice, feeling completely out of place, a smudge on a clean canvas. They reached a huge living room with a picture window overlooking the garden, a gigantic sofa, and a coffee table devoid of a single paper, magazine, or cup—everything perfectly tidy. They stopped there.

“Mr. Alejandro isn’t here, but he said you knew why you were here,” Ana said dryly, as if she didn’t want to speak further. “Yes, he offered me a job.” “Mhm. He said you’d be with the boy in the afternoons, that you’d be staying in the room in the back.” “The back?” “Yes. There’s a room next to the laundry area. It has its own bathroom.

It’s not like the ones upstairs, but it’s decent. We set it up for you this morning. You can see it if you like.” Sara just nodded. She felt that anything she said would sound wrong. Ana led her down a long hallway. They descended a couple of steps to a white door, which she opened. The room was small, with a single bed, a nightstand, and a small, high window.

It was clean, certainly, but it felt cold, impersonal. “You can leave your things here.” “I don’t have anything.” Ana just gave a slight nod and left. Sara sat on the edge of the bed. The mattress was harder than she expected. She stayed there, staring at the window. She didn’t know whether to feel grateful, nervous, or regretful. A short while later, she heard voices. Mateo’s high-pitched tone was unmistakable.

He was shouting her name as if playing a game of hide-and-seek. Sara stood up immediately and went out. Mateo appeared, running down the hall with a backpack dangling from one arm. “You came! You really came! I told you, Dad!” Alejandro appeared behind him with a smile that looked like relief. “Hello,

Sara. I’m so glad you made it.” “Hi. Yes, here I am.” “Did they show you your room?” “Yes, thank you. It’s fine. I don’t need much.” Alejandro nodded. He didn’t ask awkward questions or try to put on a show. He simply handed her a bag with a bottle of water and some papers. “This is a small contract. Nothing legally complicated, just something to make you feel secure.

There’s also some cash for the next few days and the bus route, in case you need to go out and come back on your own.” Sara took the bag but didn’t open it. She felt like everything was happening too fast, and her mind hadn’t yet caught up to how she had gotten there. “Do you want to have a snack with us?” Alejandro asked. “I don’t want to be in the way.”

“You’re not in the way. You’re invited.” Mateo took her by the hand and pulled her toward the kitchen. There, Sara truly felt small. The kitchen looked like it was from a TV show, all stainless steel, clean, and orderly. Alejandro served bowls of alphabet soup and buttered bread. Nothing fancy, nothing strange, just simple food. “Did you cook this?” Sara asked as they sat down.

“Yes, but don’t say it too loud. Ana gets mad.” “Why?” “Because she says I get in her way in the kitchen.” Mateo laughed. Sara did too. They began to eat. Although Sara was tense, something in the atmosphere started to loosen. Mateo didn’t stop talking to her, telling her about school, his drawings, and a puppy he wanted.

Sara just listened, occasionally responding. She wasn’t sure if she was doing things right, but at least the boy seemed happy. After the meal, Mateo went up to his room, and Alejandro walked with Sara to the hallway. “You can move freely around the house. If you ever feel uncomfortable, tell me.

I don’t want you to feel trapped here.” “I don’t feel trapped. I just don’t know if I belong.” Alejandro looked at her calmly. “Mateo thinks you do. And so do I.” Sara didn’t know what to say. She nodded again and returned to her room. She closed the door gently, sat on the bed, and for the first time in a long time, she cried softly. Not from sadness, nor from joy.

She cried because she was scared. Because when a person has lived on the street for so long, having a roof over your head doesn’t just bring peace; it also brings fear. Fear of losing it, fear of not being good enough, fear that it’s all an illusion. And that night, before falling asleep, she promised herself she wouldn’t run away. She would try. Even if the house didn’t feel like hers, even if she was afraid, even if she doubted everything. Because maybe, just maybe, something new could start here.

Sara had been in the house for four days—four days of learning to move without making noise, not to touch what wasn’t hers, and not to meddle where she wasn’t invited. She already knew what time Mateo’s bus arrived, what food he liked, and even how to convince him to do his homework with drawings and promises of stories.

With each passing day, her fear lessened, though it never disappeared completely. That afternoon, while Sara was reading a pirate story to Mateo on the playroom sofa, Ana entered without knocking. “Sara, Mr. Alejandro wants you to stay for dinner. Mrs. Lucía is coming today.” “Who’s that?” “His sister-in-law.” “Oh.” Ana said nothing more and left, her expression as serious as ever.

Sara continued reading, but her concentration was broken. Something in the way Ana had said “Mrs. Lucía” left her feeling uneasy. She didn’t know if it was just her imagination, but something felt different. That evening, at seven o’clock sharp, she went down to the kitchen. Alejandro was already in the living room on the phone. When he saw her, he quickly hung up and approached her.

“Thanks for staying. I want you to meet Lucía. She’s been very involved with Mateo these past few years, almost like an aunt.” “Is it okay for me to be here?” “Of course. You’re a part of this now, too. Relax.” Sara nodded, smoothing her blouse as best she could. Alejandro had given her some clean clothes that afternoon, things he had bought himself. Nothing expensive, but all new.

Jeans, a cream-colored blouse, and white sneakers. She still felt strange in clean clothes, as if they didn’t quite fit her, but at least she no longer smelled of the street. Ten minutes later, Lucía arrived. She was tall and thin, wearing a tight-fitting wine-colored dress and perfectly styled hair.

She entered as if she owned the place, greeted Alejandro with a kiss on the cheek, hugged Mateo with little enthusiasm, and then turned to Sara. “Hello, you must be Sara,” she said, extending a hand. Sara offered her own. Lucía took it, but without warmth. She looked Sara up and down with a smile that didn’t reach her eyes. “A pleasure.” “Likewise.” They went to the dining room. Ana had already set the table with the full display:

folded napkins, wine glasses, large plates, even though they were only serving soup. Sara found it hard to even sit down. She felt that if she moved anything, she would break it. Alejandro poured wine for himself and Lucía. He offered Sara sparkling water. “Don’t you want wine?” Lucía asked, feigning interest. “No, thank you. It makes me sleepy.” “How strange.

Almost everyone I know loves wine.” “I’m not almost everyone.” A short silence followed. Alejandro smiled, but it was clear he was trying to keep the peace. Lucía looked at him with a raised eyebrow. “So, tell me, Sara, what did you do before this?” Sara swallowed hard. “A lot of things, but nothing steady lately.

Alejandro offered to let me take care of Mateo, and, well, here I am.” “And did you study anything?” “No. Well, yes, up to middle school. After that, I couldn’t continue.” “Ah, I see. How interesting.” The way she said it ignited something inside Sara. It wasn’t the words themselves; it was the tone, the kind someone uses just to make you feel small.

Ana served the first course, a vegetable soup, beautifully prepared with warm bread on the side. Sara ate slowly, quietly, listening more than she spoke. Lucía was relentless with her questions disguised as curiosity. “And your parents?” “They died years ago.” “And you lived alone?” “On the street.” At that, Lucía practically choked on her bread. Alejandro didn’t react. He knew Sara was unfiltered.

And while it was strange to hear it stated so directly, he also respected it. “On the street?” Lucía repeated, as if she hadn’t heard correctly. “Yes. Is that a problem?” “No, no. It’s just… well, I suppose Alejandro didn’t tell me that part.” Alejandro looked up. “I don’t tell everyone everything.” “Of course. I was just surprised.

It’s not every day a woman who lived on the street ends up dining here.” “No, and it’s not every day a woman like you asks me so many uncomfortable questions,” Sara retorted. A heavy silence fell. Lucía adjusted her dress as if to buy time. Alejandro poured himself more wine. Mateo was in his room playing, oblivious to it all.

The dinner continued, but the mood had shifted. Sara barely spoke, finished her food, and expressed her thanks. Lucía kept her frozen smile, which seemed more like a mask. Before getting up, Sara looked at Alejandro. “Thank you for dinner.” “Thank you for staying.” Sara walked to her room without looking back.

As soon as she closed the door, she sat on the bed and exhaled. She didn’t know if she had done the right thing by answering Lucía that way, but she didn’t regret it either. She wasn’t there to pretend. In the dining room, Lucía crossed her arms. “Are you sure about this?” “Yes.” “She doesn’t seem very stable.” “She’s the best thing that’s happened to Mateo in a long time.”

“And are you doing this for Mateo, or for yourself?” “For both of us.” Lucía fell silent, picked up her glass, and finished it in one gulp. She said no more, but her face clearly showed she didn’t like any of it. Not Sara, not her story, and not the idea that Alejandro trusted someone like her so completely. The days passed, and Sara began to find her rhythm.

In the beginning, she would wake up early, move quietly, shower quickly, and help with breakfast, even though Ana never asked. Little by little, Mateo’s routine began to revolve around her: breakfast filled with laughter, going to school without tears, and coming home knowing Sara would be waiting.

Ana remained the same, never speaking more than necessary, just watching her with an expression that said, “Let’s see how long you last.” But at least she no longer invaded her space. Occasionally, she would leave a little extra food on her plate, a subtle, almost reluctant gesture of acceptance. And Sara took it as a good sign. Sara touched nothing that wasn’t hers. She never went upstairs or snooped around. Though she had access to many things, she always respected every corner of the house.

She felt it was the only way to hold on to the little she had: this roof, this child, and this strange job that felt less like work and more like a part of her life with each passing day. Mateo’s performance at school improved. Alejandro noticed it. The teachers told him his son wasn’t so isolated anymore, that he participated more and was in a better mood. When they asked what had changed, he would simply answer, “Sara.”

One afternoon, while Mateo was doing his homework, Alejandro came in with some papers. “Hey,” he said to Sara, who was at the table helping the boy cut out some shapes. “I got this from the insurance company. They want to know if you need medical access, just in case. How about I enroll you as part of the staff?” Sara stopped cutting and looked at him as if he were speaking another language.

“Insurance?” “Yes. Medical, dental, the basics.” “But that costs money.” “I’ll cover it.” “But why?” “Because you’re part of this now. It’s not just a favor; it’s what’s fair.” Sara didn’t know what to say. She felt embarrassed to accept, but she also knew that if she got sick, she had nowhere to go. She looked down and nodded. “Thank you.” Alejandro smiled, jotted something on the papers, and left.

Mateo, without pausing his gluing, said, “You’re like part of my family, you know?” Sara stared at him, her eyes welling up. She didn’t say anything, just affectionately ruffled his hair. Elsewhere in the city, Lucía was also noticing these small changes, and she didn’t like them. She started stopping by the house more often.

She claimed she was there to see Mateo, but everyone knew she was really there to watch Sara. One day, she arrived unannounced and found Sara alone with the boy, drawing in the garden. Lucía stood in the hallway, watching them silently. She saw them laughing, sharing crayons, even bickering a little over a blue one. It bothered her. She didn’t know why, but seeing their connection pained her.

“What are you doing?” she asked abruptly, shattering the moment. “A drawing,” Mateo said. “It’s a house.” “And Sara is coloring it.” Lucía knelt to look at the drawing. It depicted a huge garden, a dog, three windows, and a woman with long braids. The woman resembled no one in particular, but she was there. Sara turned and wiped her hands. “Do you want to draw?” “No, thank you,” Lucía replied coldly. Mateo fell quiet.

He was already learning to sense when someone arrived with negative energy. That night, Lucía called Alejandro. “I think you’re trusting that woman too much.” “What do you mean?” “You know nothing about her, only what she chose to tell you. She could be hiding something.” “You don’t know anything either.” “But I have eyes, Alejandro. I see how she moves, how she looks at you, how she answers you.

What if she’s just playing you? What if she has someone behind her, a plan?” Alejandro rubbed his face wearily. “You know what I think? I think you’re jealous.” Lucía’s eyes widened as if he had slapped her. “Excuse me?” “Yes. You always interfere when you’re not in control. I’m just trying to protect Mateo and you.” “Thanks, but we’re fine.” Lucía was silent for a moment, then lowered her voice.

“Be careful, Alejandro. All that glitters is not gold. Don’t get attached so quickly.” Alejandro didn’t answer. He just ended the call with a sigh. Meanwhile, Sara was starting to write her name in Mateo’s planner. Sometimes she helped him with his homework; other times, she just drew a star next to it.

Every time she signed her name, she did it with a firm hand, as if by writing “Sara,” she was asserting her existence, her place, however small it might be. One day, Mateo came running home from school with news. “I got a 10 in math!” “Really?” Sara said excitedly. “Yes! And the teacher wrote that I’m more focused thanks to you.” Sara hugged him tightly. It was the first time anyone had given her credit for something good. She felt useful, valuable.

And though she wouldn’t admit it to anyone, she fell asleep that night with a smile on her face. Because inside a house that had once felt alien, something was changing—something small but important. And everyone noticed it, even those who didn’t want to. That morning began like any other. Sara made banana pancakes because they were Mateo’s favorite.

Alejandro came down with his sleeves rolled up, looking like he had just woken up. The boy ate so fast they had to remind him to chew. Everything seemed normal, everything was calm. But sometimes, the quietest moments are the ones that hide the worst surprises. When Mateo left for school, Sara was alone in the house. Alejandro had an early meeting, and Ana was at the market.

She took advantage of the silence to wash some of her clothes by hand, not wanting to use the washing machine without asking. She was bent over the utility sink in the backyard when she heard a whistle. It wasn’t the radio or coming from the street; it was right on the other side of the wall. She looked up. A man was watching her. He was thin, with an old cap, tattooed arms, and a crooked smile.

Sara froze. “Well, look at you, shorty,” he said shamelessly. “Tomás. Thought I wouldn’t find you.” Sara took an instinctive step back. Her hands were sweating, her heart pounding in her throat. “What are you doing here?” “Relax, I just came to talk. I see you’re living the good life now.” “You have no business here.” “And you do?

Tomás laughed, a dry, mocking sound. “Think you’re one of the rich folk now?” Sara didn’t answer. A thousand thoughts raced through her head. She had thought she would never see him again. He was part of a life she had been forced to leave behind, yet here he was, as if no time had passed. “Look, I’m not going to bother you,” Tomás said.

“I just need you to do me a favor. I’m a little short.” “I don’t have anything.” “Don’t lie to me, Sara. Just look at where you live. This is a rich person’s house. You’ve shacked up with one.” “No, it’s not your business.” “It is my business if you’re enjoying yourself while I’m still out here. Who helped you when you were on the street? Who looked out for you when no one else would?” “Looked out for me? You sold me for a jacket and two bottles,

Tomás. Don’t come at me with that ‘looked out for me’ crap.” He fell silent for a second, then shrugged as if it were no big deal. “That’s in the past. You were strong, you handled it. You’re here, aren’t you?” Sara felt her whole body tremble. She glanced at the kitchen door, hoping no one would come out.

She didn’t want Alejandro to see her like this. Or Mateo. Or anyone. “Go away. I don’t want trouble.” “Don’t worry, I won’t make a scene. I just need you to give me some cash. That’s all. A couple thousand. I swear on my mother’s grave.” “Your mother is dead.” “Well, I swear on her then.” Sara stared at him. She knew he wouldn’t leave that easily. “I don’t have money.”

“Then ask your boss. Tell him you need an advance. Don’t be cruel. You know I have ways of making people listen.” That phrase pierced her skin like a knife. She knew him well. Tomás didn’t make direct threats; he just said things that made you imagine the worst. “If you come back, I’m calling the police.”

“And what are you going to tell them? That you know a bum with a record? You really want them digging into your past?” Sara glared at him. “Get out.” Tomás smiled, adjusted his cap, and said, “See you soon, shorty. Think about it.” He walked away calmly, as if nothing had happened.

Sara stood frozen, clenching her hands until her knuckles ached. She felt like everything she had built was about to come crashing down. The rest of the day passed in slow motion. Sara said nothing to Alejandro, Mateo, or anyone else. She acted normal, but inside, she was terrified.

She knew Tomás wasn’t the type to give up, and she knew that if she didn’t do something, everything could fall apart. That night, alone in her room, she took out a sheet of paper and began to write. It was a list of everything she couldn’t allow to happen. I will not let him blackmail me. I will not risk this job. I will not go back to that world.

The list was long, but at the end, she wrote a single sentence: I will not let this break me. But the fear had already taken root, and sometimes, that’s more dangerous than any threat. Ana had sharp ears. She wasn’t a gossip for sport, but she had been in that house for many years and knew all its sounds by heart. When someone spoke on the phone in a low voice, she overheard without meaning to.

When something was out of place, she noticed immediately. That morning, as she went out to the patio to check the towels on the line, she caught a glimpse of Sara by the back wall, talking. She wasn’t alone. A man in a cap was on the other side, his head just visible. She couldn’t hear what they were saying, but it was clearly a tense conversation.

Sara looked nervous, wringing her hands, speaking quickly. Ana remained silent and went back inside without making a sound. She said nothing at that moment, but the image was seared into her memory. Later, while she was cooking, Lucía arrived unannounced again. It was becoming a habit. She carried a cake box and a fake smile. “Is Alejandro here?” she asked upon entering.

“No, he left early,” Ana said. “And Mateo is with Sara, doing homework.” Lucía walked straight into the kitchen as if she owned the place. She took off her sunglasses and sat at the counter. “So, how are you? How are you getting on with the new girl?” Ana raised an eyebrow. “Miss Sara.” “Right. What’s your opinion?” “I’m not one to have opinions, but I saw her talking to someone at the back wall today.” “With whom?” “I don’t know. A man in a cap.

I couldn’t see him well, but it didn’t look like a normal visit.” Lucía smiled as if she’d just been handed the missing piece of a puzzle. “And Alejandro knows?” “No. I don’t get involved.” “Well, you should tell him. You never know. That woman came out of nowhere.” Ana said no more, but Lucía had what she wanted.

She went upstairs, greeted Mateo, gave him a slice of cake, and feigned affection. Sara was sitting there with him, helping him with some addition problems. As soon as she saw Lucía, she smiled, but it wasn’t the same smile. There was something off, something Sara couldn’t quite read but felt nonetheless. “Hello, how are you?” Lucía said. “You look tired.” “I didn’t sleep well,” Sara replied dryly.

“Problems?” “Nothing serious.” Lucía leaned over to look at the notebook. “Oh, addition. I was terrible at that.” “I’m great at it!” Mateo said happily. Lucía laughed. “Of course you are, my love. Hey, do you know who that man was who came by this morning?” she asked Mateo, as if it were nothing. Sara looked at her sharply. “What?” “Nothing, Ana just told me someone came looking for you. A friend, maybe?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” “Well, I was just asking. Don’t get upset.” “I’m not upset. I just don’t like being spied on.” Lucía held up her hands as if she had nothing to do with it. “I didn’t spy, I was told. But relax, if it’s nothing, there’s no problem.” Sara fell silent. She already knew Lucía wasn’t just there for Mateo. She was there to watch her, to find her flaws, to push her out. And now she had an excuse.

That night, when Alejandro arrived, Lucía was gone, but she had planted the seed of doubt. “Hey, Alejandro, just be careful. Ana saw Sara talking to some strange guy at the wall. Just so you know.” “A guy?” “Yeah, they said the conversation didn’t seem very friendly. I mean, I don’t want to meddle, but with Mateo in the house, you have to be vigilant.”

“Thanks for the heads-up,” he said, not revealing whether he believed her. Lucía left with a placid smile. The seed was planted; now she just had to wait for it to grow. Later, when Alejandro went to see Sara, she was already in her room. He knocked gently on the door. “Can I come in?” “Yes.” He entered. Sara was sitting on the bed with a piece of paper in her hands, which she quickly folded when she saw him. “Is everything okay?” he asked. “Yes.

Why?” “Lucía said something about a man who came today.” Sara tensed. “Did she tell you, or did Ana?” “Ana mentioned it to her. She passed it on to me.” “I figured.” Alejandro sat in a chair across from her. “Who was it?” “A mistake from my past. Someone I thought I’d never see again.” “Did he come asking for money?” “Yes.”

“And did you give it to him?” “No.” “Did he threaten you?” “Not with words. But he knows me. He knows how to be scary.” Alejandro looked at her seriously. “Do you think he’ll be back?” “Maybe.” “Do you want me to report it?” “No, not yet. But if he comes back, I’ll tell you.” He nodded. It was clear he didn’t like what he was hearing, but he also trusted her, at least for now.

“Thank you for telling me.” “I didn’t do it sooner because I thought I could handle it on my own.” “You’re not alone anymore, Sara.” She looked down. That phrase hit her harder than she expected. Not because of what it meant, but because she didn’t know if it was true. She didn’t know if she really had someone on her side or if it was just a matter of time before he left her too. Sara didn’t sleep well that night.

She dreamed of Tomás, of shouting voices, of her belongings thrown onto the street. She woke up sweating, her heart racing, with a sense that something bad was about to happen. Still, she got up, put on her usual clothes, and went to make Mateo’s breakfast. Like every morning, Alejandro had already left for a meeting.

Ana was quiet, more so than usual. She made no comments and didn’t greet her as she had on other days. She just served her coffee and continued sweeping as if she didn’t see her. Sara noticed but said nothing. She decided it wasn’t worth arguing that day. Mateo came down, happy as always, gave Sara a kiss, and sat down to eat his pancakes.

“Are you picking me up from school today too?” he asked with his mouth full. “Of course, champ. And we’ll go to the park afterward if you finish your homework.” “Yay!” He smiled. He loved going to the park with her more than any toy. Sara watched him eat with gusto and felt that it was all worth it just for that moment.

After dropping him off at school, she returned home and started doing laundry, cleaning her room, and helping Ana with the dishes. But Ana was silent, serious, and dry, with a look that said, “You’d better stay away from me.” At noon, just as she was about to leave for Mateo, the doorbell rang. Sara went to see who it was, and there he was again. Tomás, on the other side of the gate, with the same cap and that smile that terrified her. “You again.” “What’s up, Sara? Don’t hide from me. I just came to talk.”

“I told you not to come back.” “And I told you to think about my proposal. It’s not that much. Look, I did the math. With ten thousand pesos, I’m set.” “Are you sick or what? Where am I supposed to get that?” “You’ll figure it out. You have a boss with money. A few minutes of trust, and you can get it.” “Go to hell.” Ana appeared right behind her.

She didn’t hear everything, but she saw the whole scene: Sara shouting, the man laughing, the door ajar. It was enough. She turned around without a word. Sara slammed the gate shut and ran into the house, trembling with anger. She ran to the bathroom, washed her face, and took a deep breath. She wanted to cry but held it in.

At five in the afternoon, when she returned with Mateo from school, Alejandro was already home. He was waiting for her in the living room, his face serious. Something had changed. “Sara, can we talk?” She stood still, holding Mateo’s backpack. “Yes, is something wrong?” “Yes. Lucía came today. She spoke with Ana. They told me what happened with that man again.” Sara sighed. “I already told you who he was.”

“Yes, but you didn’t tell me he came back today. And according to Ana, you were arguing loudly.” “He came. I didn’t invite him. He was blackmailing me. I told him to leave.” “And why didn’t you tell me immediately?” “Because I don’t want you to think that all I bring is trouble. I’m really trying.” Alejandro rubbed his tired face.

“It’s not about whether you’re trying or not. It’s about Mateo. I can’t have someone in my house who has a guy showing up at the door demanding money.” “It’s not my fault what he does.” “I know, but I can’t take that risk either. Not now.” Mateo was watching them from the stairs. It was clear he didn’t understand everything, but he understood the basics. They were arguing, and he didn’t like it.

“Are you telling me to leave?” “Just for now. Until things calm down.” “And if they don’t calm down?” Alejandro fell silent. Sara lowered her head, her voice cracking but firm. “Fine. I’m not going to beg.” She went to get her things. She didn’t have much. She packed her clothes into the backpack Alejandro had given her weeks before. She took out her notebooks, her papers, and folded the blankets with trembling hands.

Ana didn’t appear. Alejandro didn’t come up either. When she came down, Mateo was waiting for her at the door. “Where are you going?” “I have to leave for a little while, champ.” “Why?” “It’s adult stuff. But I promise I won’t disappear.” “I don’t want you to go.” Sara hugged him tightly.

She held him as if that hug was all she had left. “You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me, you know that?” Mateo nodded, crying softly. Alejandro finally came down, his eyes fixed on the floor. “I’ll leave you money for the bus. Whatever you need.” “I don’t need anything. Just for you to believe me.” And she left. She walked out with the backpack on her shoulder, without looking back. Her legs were shaking.

Outside, the sun was setting, but for her, everything was going dark. She didn’t cry, not in that moment, but inside, she felt broken. Outside, Tomás was still in the area. He saw her from a distance and whistled again. This time, she didn’t look at him. She crossed the street as if he didn’t exist. She wasn’t going to give him that power anymore.

That night, she didn’t sleep at the shelter. She sat on a bench at the bus terminal and stayed there, aimless, thinking about what to do. The only thing she knew was that she wasn’t going to give up. Not again. Alejandro didn’t sleep well. He woke up several times during the night, tossed and turned, and checked his phone periodically for no reason. The house was quieter than usual, and he didn’t like it.

It wasn’t the silence that made him uncomfortable, but the absence. The absence of that spontaneous laughter at breakfast, of Mateo’s voice sharing school gossip, of Sara teasing him about his overcooked eggs. At eight in the morning, he went down to have breakfast with Mateo. The boy didn’t say a word. He didn’t want his juice or his pancakes. He played with his spoon, pushing his plate around without any appetite.

Alejandro tried to stay calm. “Do you want me to take you to school?” “No.” “Are you mad at me?” Mateo looked up, his eyes sad. “You kicked her out.” “It wasn’t like that, son. It was for safety.” “She wouldn’t hurt me.” “I know. But sometimes adults have to make tough decisions.” “Well, it was a dumb decision.”

Alejandro didn’t reply. He drove him to school in silence, a lump in his throat. After dropping him off, he stayed in the car for a while, his hands on the steering wheel, feeling like he had failed at something, but not knowing exactly what. Later, at the office, he couldn’t concentrate. He had a thousand things to do, but everything felt distant. He sent a text to Sara, just one.

Are you okay? He got no response. Hours later, while going out to buy a coffee, he ran into Teresa, a woman who used to work for them. She was trustworthy; he had known her family for years. He greeted her warmly. “Teresa, what a pleasure to see you. How are you?” “Fine, Mr. Alejandro. Not as young, but just as handsome,” she joked.

“What are you doing around here?” “I came to drop off some documents. But listen, how strange. I ran into your sister-in-law the other day. Lucía.” “Yes.” “She was at the supermarket with a woman I don’t like, and they were talking about you, the boy, and a girl who was living with you.” Alejandro looked at her attentively. “What were they saying?” “That you were crazy, that you had brought a woman from the streets into your house, that she was probably using your son to get something.

You know how Lucía is, a big mouth. But she was saying it like she knew everything, as if you had no idea what you were doing.” Alejandro fell silent, clenching his jaw. “Thank you for telling me, Teresa. I really appreciate it.” “Just be careful. Don’t trust that woman so much.” “Sara?” “No, the other one.” Alejandro thanked her and went straight to his car.

He sat without starting it, took out his phone, looked through his gallery, and stared at a photo of Mateo and Sara in the garden with an old ball, both of them laughing hysterically. He didn’t see a woman with bad intentions. He saw something else, something you can’t fake. He made a decision. That afternoon, instead of going straight home, he went to look for her.

He checked the places where he had seen her before: the park, the esquite stand, the shelter. On his second try, he found her. Sara was sitting on a bench with a plastic bag beside her, staring at the ground. When she saw him, she blinked as if she couldn’t believe he was there. “What are you doing here?” “Looking for you.” “Why?” “For you to tell me what you didn’t tell me before.” “I told you everything.”

“You didn’t tell me what was fair, but not everything.” Sara took a deep breath. She knew this moment would come. “Tomás is someone from my past, a guy I lived with on the streets. He protected me, or so he said. But one day, he sold me, literally, for a jacket and two bottles. I got away from him then.

I thought I would never see him again, but he showed up as if nothing had happened. He asked me for money. I said no. Then he came back. You know the rest.” “And what else?” “I know him. I know he won’t give up. That’s why I left. I didn’t want him to hurt Mateo. I didn’t want him to use that to poison what we had.” “And you think leaving helped?” “I don’t know.

I just did what I thought was right.” Alejandro moved closer and sat beside her. She glanced at him, a mix of fear and anger in her eyes. “And what have you been doing since I left?” “I investigated. I spoke with Teresa, the woman who worked with my family for years. She told me what Lucía has been saying. I realized I’m being used, manipulated.” Sara stared at him. “So now what?” “Now I want you to come back.”

“And if Tomás comes back?” “We’ll face him. Together.” “We?” “Yes. You’re not alone anymore, Sara.” She looked down. She didn’t cry, but her eyes turned red. Alejandro took her hand. She didn’t pull away. “What if I’m not cut out for this?” “No one knows how to be from the start. But you gave Mateo something no one else could.” “And you?” “I need it too.”

They sat in silence. Nothing more needed to be said. Sara let out a breath and leaned her head on his shoulder, just for a second. Then she sat up straight. “It’s not going to be easy.” “It doesn’t matter. It’s worth it.” Alejandro no longer had any doubts. What he had seen, what he had heard, and what he had felt these past few days—he couldn’t ignore it any longer.

He wasn’t going to stand by while Lucía continued to inject poison into his life. It was time to put a stop to it. And not for himself, but for Mateo, for Sara, and for the peace that had been so hard-won. That Thursday, Lucía showed up at the house as usual, unannounced.

She arrived with a bag of sweet bread and the same fake smile. Sara wasn’t there; she had gone to the park with Mateo. Alejandro met her in the living room with a stern face, not greeting her as he used to. “Do you have a moment?” he asked. “Of course. Is everything alright?” “No, actually, it’s not.” Lucía placed the bag on the table and sat down, still with that “I did nothing wrong” attitude.

“What’s wrong?” “I spoke with Teresa. She told me what you’ve been saying about Sara.” Lucía shifted on the sofa, feigning surprise. “Teresa? That woman? Oh, Alejandro, are you really going to believe someone who doesn’t even work for you anymore?” “Yes, I believe her. Because she’s not the only one who’s told me things.

Ever since Sara arrived, you’ve done nothing but try to get her out of here. What bothers you so much?” “Are you seriously asking me that? You don’t see it? You brought a stranger, a woman with a street past, to live with your son. What if you’re wrong? What if something happens one day, and you’re the one responsible?”

“A lot has happened, Lucía, and all of it has been good. Since she arrived, Mateo has started laughing again, eating with gusto, sleeping peacefully again.” “And you? Are you in love with her?” Alejandro didn’t answer right away. “That’s not your business.” “Of course it is. This was my sister’s house. That boy is my nephew. I have a right to my opinion, too.” “You don’t have the right to manipulate, to invent things, to sow doubt.

From day one, you’ve treated Sara like trash. Why?” Lucía crossed her arms. “Because I didn’t like her from the start. Something didn’t feel right. What kind of woman just appears out of nowhere, moves into your house, and has the child eating out of her hand in two weeks? It’s not normal, Alejandro.” “And you are?

You, who have spent years playing the good aunt, but deep down, you’ve always wanted me to see you as something more.” Lucía’s face turned beet red. From her expression, he knew she hadn’t expected that. She shot to her feet. “What are you talking about?” “Don’t play dumb. You’ve always been there, waiting for me to notice you. And now that I’ve gotten close to someone else, you’ve shown your claws.” Lucía looked at him with rage.

She no longer bothered to hide it. “You know what, Alejandro? You’re an idiot. You’re so blinded by that woman that you can’t see the risk. All I ever did was look out for you and Mateo. But if you don’t value that, then that’s on you.” “I don’t need you to look out for me. I need you to respect my decisions. And if you can’t do that, then you’d better stay away.” “Are you kicking me out?”

“I’m asking you to stop meddling where you’re not wanted.” Lucía looked at him as if she didn’t recognize him. She grabbed the bag of bread, threw it at his chest, and left without another word. She slammed the door so hard it rattled the kitchen. Ana, who had been listening from behind the dining room door, heard everything and, for the first time, voiced a comment she had been holding back for days. “It’s about time.” Alejandro turned, surprised.

“You knew, too?” “It was obvious. She never liked Sara. But she also didn’t like that you weren’t paying attention to her. That woman has acted like she owned this house for years.” Alejandro slumped onto the sofa, exhausted. He had finally removed a blindfold, but he didn’t feel entirely good.

He felt anger, disappointment, and a bit of guilt, too. That afternoon, when Sara and Mateo returned from the park, everything was calmer. The boy had a popsicle and a smile that filled his soul. Sara noticed the strange atmosphere as soon as she walked in. “Everything okay?” “Yes. We’ll talk tonight.”

When Mateo was asleep, Alejandro went to find her in her room. “No more secrets,” he said. “What do you mean?” “I talked to Lucía. I told her everything I needed to say. She won’t be bothering you again.” “Are you sure?” “Yes. This is your home, too.” Sara looked down. She wasn’t used to someone defending her, to someone fighting for her without asking for anything in return. Her chest tightened. “Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me. Just stay. The days without you are noticeable.” The days without Sara were indeed noticeable. Mateo became quieter, more withdrawn. He no longer wanted to go to the park or play with his toys. He barely ate, and his grades at school started to drop again. Alejandro noticed it all. Even though Mateo didn’t complain, he just did the bare minimum.

He only answered when spoken to. His laughter no longer came out with the same force. Even though they had talked, Sara hadn’t returned. Alejandro sent her another message, asking if everything was still okay, but she only replied with a simple “yes.” After that, she stopped responding. He didn’t know if she was busy, if she didn’t want to see him, or if she was simply distancing herself for good.

What he did know was that he wasn’t going to stand by and do nothing. That Saturday, he got up early and told Ana not to wait for him for lunch. He took the car keys, took Mateo by the hand, and left with a single goal: to find her. “Where are we going?” the boy asked, his eyes more alive than usual. “To find someone who should have never left.” They started at the park where they had first seen her. Nothing. Not a trace of her.

They passed by Doña Carmen’s esquite stand, who greeted him with a sad look. “Sara?” Alejandro asked. “I haven’t seen her in days, but maybe she’s around the Santa Julia neighborhood. She told me she had an acquaintance there.” With that clue, they headed straight for the neighborhood. They searched the busiest streets, the shelters, and even the line of people waiting for food outside a church. Nothing.

The afternoon was starting to fade when Mateo shouted from the back seat, “There she is, Dad! It’s her!” Alejandro slammed on the brakes. He turned to where the boy was pointing, and yes, it was Sara. She was standing in front of a small tin-roofed diner, wearing an apron, with a rag slung over her shoulder. Her hair was pulled back, her face a little thinner, and she looked more tired. But it was her, without a doubt.

It was her. Alejandro got out of the car without a second thought. Mateo followed, running. “Sara!” Mateo shouted as he hugged her with all his might. She knelt and received him with glistening eyes, swallowing her tears. “I missed you. Why did you leave?” “I’m sorry, champ. I’m sorry,” she said, her voice breaking. Alejandro approached slowly. When he was in front of her, Sara stood up, her arms crossed as if to protect herself.

“What are you doing here?” “Looking for you.” “Why?” “Because you shouldn’t have left like that. Because Mateo needs you. Because I do, too.” “I don’t fit in your world anymore, Alejandro.” “And who said the world has to be perfect for someone to fit in?” Sara said nothing. “You left because you were scared,” he said. “Yes. Because I thought everything was going to fall apart, that you would all run away when you found out the worst about me.”

“Are you still scared?” “What scares me now is not having you close.” Mateo watched them, not fully understanding, but knowing something important was happening. Sara hugged him again and then looked at Alejandro with sincere eyes. “I don’t want to live on the run, but I also don’t want to be the one who ruins your life.” “Do I look ruined?

I look tired.” “I’m tired of looking for you.” At that, Sara finally smiled. A small but real smile. She took off her apron, hung it on a hook by the diner’s door, and said, “Give me five minutes. I’m going to get my things.” “Are you coming with us?” Mateo asked hopefully. “Yes, champ. I’m not leaving without saying goodbye again.”

When they got in the car, no one spoke for a few minutes. Only the wind coming through the window and the intertwined hands of Sara and Mateo in the back seat. Alejandro watched them in the rearview mirror with a peace he hadn’t felt in weeks. That night, when they arrived home, Ana opened the door without a word.

She looked at them, at the bags Sara was carrying, and stepped aside to let them pass. “Everything okay?” she asked Alejandro in a low voice. “It is now.” Sara returned to her room as if she had never left. Everything was the same. Her things were still there. Her bed was made, the window slightly open. That night, when she lay down, she sighed so deeply her chest heaved. She didn’t know how long this peace would last.

She didn’t know if Tomás would return, if Lucía would persist, or if the past would once again knock on her door. But for now, she was home, and that was enough. Sara had been back in the house for a week. Everything had returned to a state of calm. Mateo was happy and talkative again, full of his usual antics.

Alejandro smiled more often, and even Ana, though she wouldn’t say it, seemed less tense. One afternoon, while Sara was folding laundry in her room, Alejandro knocked on the door. “Do you have plans for the weekend?” “Plans? You mean like going out with my rich friends?” Alejandro let out a laugh. “No. I was thinking of taking the three of you to my parents’ ranch. It’s two hours away. There are trees, a river, space to run.

There’s no signal, but there is peace. I think we all need it.” Sara thought for a moment. She had never been on a family trip like that. It felt strange, but also tempting. “Do you think that’s okay?” “Yes. Mateo wants you there, and so do I. And we need to breathe a little. Just the three of us.”

“Deal. But don’t make me carry any suitcases.” “You’ll have to pack your own toothbrush, though.” They left early on Friday. Mateo was glued to the window, counting cars and asking questions about cows and mountains. Sara sat in the passenger seat, barefoot, with an open bag of chips between her legs.

Alejandro drove, relaxed, as if he had no worries. When they arrived at the ranch, Sara was impressed. It wasn’t luxurious, but it was huge. An open piece of land with a simple but comfortable house. There were mango trees, free-roaming chickens, and an old dog that dragged itself into the shade. “Wow. I thought you were bringing me to a place with a pool and white sofas,” Sara said, taking it all in.

“Are you disappointed?” “Not at all. I love it.” Mateo ran off to see the dog, and Sara followed. Alejandro unloaded the car. That day was peaceful. They walked through the fields, ate quesadillas made on the ranch’s old stove, and in the afternoon, sat in plastic chairs watching the sunset.

At night, they made a large bed on the living room floor with blankets. Mateo slept between them, hugging a stuffed animal. Sara and Alejandro looked at each other in silence, not saying much, but feeling something growing between them. It wasn’t just attraction; it was something else, something deeper. “I never thought about this,” she said softly.

“About what?” “About having peace, just like that, so suddenly.” “Me neither.” The days flew by, three in total. During that time, Sara laughed freely again, walked without constantly looking over her shoulder, and slept without being startled awake. Alejandro looked at her differently, no longer with doubt or curiosity, but now with real trust and affection. Mateo was happier than ever.

He spent his time running, jumping, and inventing games. One afternoon, Sara found him drawing under a tree. It was a picture of her, Alejandro, and him, holding hands. When he showed it to her, she was speechless. “Do you like it?” the boy asked. “Yes, champ. It’s the best drawing in the world.” But while all this was happening, what no one knew was that Lucía had not given up. A friend of hers had seen her in the park with Sara days before and had sent her a photo.

When Lucía saw it, her stomach churned. They were smiling like a happy family, and she was not going to allow that. From her apartment, Lucía began to pull strings. She searched social media, online groups, until she found a contact who knew Tomás. It wasn’t hard to find him.

The guy was everywhere, selling himself for whatever he could get. In less than two days, she had his number. She wrote to him, pretending to be a journalist interested in telling his story with the nanny of a famous businessman’s son. She offered him money for photos, details, whatever. Tomás was quick to reply. How much are you paying? Whatever the exclusive is worth, Lucía responded from a fake account.

He sent an old photo of himself with Sara, half-embracing on a street. It was old, but the image spoke volumes: her in a cap and dirty clothes, him laughing as if he owned the world. Lucía smiled. She didn’t need new evidence. With this, she could create whatever narrative she wanted. She waited for them to return from their trip. Sara had no idea.

Upon their return, she felt more comfortable in the house, as if she finally belonged. Alejandro and she were also at a point where things were falling into place on their own. But just then, something shattered. Ana came in, her face pale, holding her phone. “Mr. Alejandro, they’re sharing this in a group from Mateo’s school.” It was the photo, accompanied by a message.

Is this the woman living with Alejandro, the one taking care of his son? Her name is Sara, and this is one of her friends from the street. Be careful. Alejandro felt a punch to the gut. Sara, seeing the image, felt the air leave her lungs. “Who did this?” she asked. “I don’t know,” Ana said. “But everyone is sharing it now.” Alejandro took the phone, showed it to Sara, and asked only, “When is this from?” She swallowed hard.

“Years ago. It’s true, I was with him, but not anymore. I never went back to—” “I know,” he interrupted. “I’m not doubting you. I just want to know who is doing this.” Sara closed her eyes. She already had a suspicion. “It was Lucía.” The image had already spread everywhere: WhatsApp groups, Facebook posts, even a local gossip profile.

It had been shared with a text full of innuendo. The new woman in businessman Alejandro Morales’s house has a past with vagrants. Who is really taking care of his son? Sara sat on the sofa, her face blank, her heart tight. Mateo was playing in his room, oblivious to everything.

Alejandro paced back and forth, his phone buzzing with one message after another. People asking questions, some feigning concern, others just gossiping under the guise of interest. Some even dared to send screenshots with offensive comments. Now we understand why he doesn’t want professional nannies. He likes to pick them up from the street.

Ana entered the living room, looking worried. “What do we do?” Alejandro took a deep breath. He had endured many things in his life, but being attacked so viciously was another matter. “Do you know if Lucía has contact with anyone from the school?” he asked Ana. “With several mothers. She goes to the events and always gets involved in the committees, even when no one asks her to.” “Okay.”

Sara said nothing, still sitting on the sofa, staring at the floor. “This was personal,” Alejandro said. “No one else had that photo. Only she could have spread it like this, right after we got back.” “It doesn’t matter who it was anymore,” Sara said suddenly, her voice low. “They’ve already smeared me. It can’t be cleaned up.” Alejandro knelt in front of her. “Yes, it can. But not if you stay silent.

Lucía will keep going if she thinks she can destroy you. We’re not going to give her that satisfaction.” “And what are we going to do? Give interviews? Say, ‘Yes, I lived on the street, but now I know how to fry eggs and mop floors’?” “You don’t have to justify your past. You just have to face it with dignity, like you’ve done since you arrived.”

Sara looked at him, her eyes filled with rage—not at him, but at the world, at everyone who thought they had the right to point fingers. “I feel dirty,” she said, her voice barely a whisper. “You’re not. You’re here with us for a reason. You’re here.” That afternoon, Alejandro spoke with the school principal.

He wanted to get ahead of it, to tell her himself what was happening before it blew up. He explained who Sara was, how she had come into their lives, and what she meant to Mateo. The principal, a tough but sensible woman, listened without interrupting. “I’m not interested in what people say on social media,” she said finally. “I’m interested in how your son is doing. And if your son is better since she’s been in his life, that’s enough for me.

But I’ll warn you, there are some very meddlesome parents here, and this could escalate.” “I’m ready,” Alejandro said. But it didn’t end there. The next day, reporters showed up at their gate—not formal ones, but freelancers, digital media, even a guy recording live on his phone. They wanted a statement, a photo, a reaction. Alejandro ignored them, but Sara peeked through the window and felt the air being squeezed from her lungs.

She locked herself in her room again and refused to come out all day. Mateo knocked on her door that night. “Are you mad?” “No, champ. I’m just tired.” “Because of the people saying mean things?” “Yes.” “I don’t care what they say. I love you.” Sara hugged him so tightly the boy grunted. Meanwhile, Lucía continued to pull strings from her apartment. She pretended to have nothing to do with it, but among her contacts, she laughed at the scandal she had caused. She loved watching Sara suffer.

She felt she had regained control. But what she didn’t expect was for someone else to start speaking up. A mother from the school who had known Alejandro for years sent him a private message. I know you’re behind this. Don’t mess with a child just because you can’t stand not being chosen. When Lucía read that, she felt a mix of rage and fear.

She realized people weren’t so stupid; some were seeing what was really happening. The next day, she got another dose of reality. Alejandro went to see her. “I don’t want you to come near my family again,” he said directly. “I don’t want you talking to Mateo. I don’t want you sending messages to anyone from his school.

And if you dare to publish or move anything else about Sara, I will sue you.” “Are you threatening me?” “No, I’m warning you.” Lucía let out a fake laugh. “Are you losing your mind over that woman?” “I’m not losing it; I’m getting it back.” She tried to soften her tone. “Alejandro, I didn’t mean to hurt you. I was just worried.” “You weren’t. You were jealous. And your poison has spread enough.” He left without another word.

That night, Alejandro found Sara in the kitchen, drinking water, her eyes calmer than they had been in days. “What if she doesn’t stop?” “She will, because she has no more weapons.” “I’m not a victim,” she said. “I don’t want to be seen as someone fragile.” “No one sees you that way. They see you as someone strong who is still standing.”

“Well, I hope you’re right, because this time, it really hurt.” On Monday, Sara woke up early, not because she had something to do, but because she no longer wanted to hide. She had spent the weekend cooped up in her room, her phone off, her head full of doubts.

She had cried in silence, written things in a notebook, torn up the pages, and written again. But that morning, she tied her hair back, put on jeans and a simple blouse, and went down to the kitchen with a clean face and a determined gaze. Alejandro saw her enter and stopped reading the newspaper. “Everything okay?” “Today, I’m going to speak. I’m going to put an end to this.” “Are you sure?” “More than ever.”

Mateo was having breakfast when he saw her. He smiled sweetly. “Are you going out?” “Yes, champ, but I’ll be back quick. Will you save me a cookie?” “All of them.” After dropping the boy off at school, Sara went straight to the place where it had all exploded: the school. Not to see the principal, not to start a fight.

She went to find the mothers, the ones who gossiped in groups, who sent voice notes judging her clothes, who shared the infamous photo as if it were juicy gossip. There they were, as always, standing outside the gate with their designer bags, large sunglasses, and expensive water bottles. Sara took a deep breath, crossed the street, and stood before them. “Hello.”

Three of the five turned immediately. The other two ignored her as if they hadn’t seen her. “I just came to say something,” she began, her voice clear. “Yes, the photo you’re all passing around is real. I lived on the street. I was there for many years. And that man I’m with, yes, he was a part of my life. But not anymore.” Several of them exchanged glances.

One even took out her phone, not to record, but to pretend she wasn’t listening. “Alejandro gave me a chance. I didn’t steal it, I didn’t lie to him, and I certainly haven’t hurt his son. Quite the opposite. Since I’ve been with him, Mateo has improved. He’s started smiling again, and that’s the only thing that matters to me.”

“And why are you telling us this?” asked one, the most meddlesome. “Because it’s clear you all love talking about me. But you’ve never asked me anything to my face. I’m doing it today so that if you’re going to keep talking, you’ll do it with all the facts.” “And you’re not ashamed?” “I was. But not anymore. Because what I went through made me strong. You have no idea what it’s like not to have a place to sleep, what it’s like for no one to look you in the eye.

I do. And yet, here I am.” “Do you want us to applaud?” another said mockingly. “No. I just want you to shut up, if you’re not going to help.” An uncomfortable silence fell. Sara said no more, turned, and walked away with a firm stride. She hadn’t shouted, she hadn’t cried, but she had left them speechless. And for her, that was more than enough.

That same afternoon, she went to the shelter where she had slept many times. She brought a box of clothes she no longer wore and some new notebooks. She went to the back, where the women sat smoking or talking, and ran into an old acquaintance. “Sara, look at you!” shouted a woman with red-dyed hair and a hoarse voice.

“Hey, Patricia. What are you doing here? Did they kick you out already?” “No, I just wanted to come by.” They sat on an old log and talked. Patricia listened attentively as Sara told her about the house, the boy, the scandal, the photo. “And you didn’t back down?” “No, not this time.” Patricia patted her on the leg. “It’s about time, honey. You always had a strong heart. You just needed to believe it.”

“I’m still working on it.” “But you’re getting there. You’re going all in.” Before she left, Patricia gave her a piece of advice. “Don’t let fear rule you. If we learned anything on the street, it’s that the brave aren’t the ones who don’t feel fear; they’re the ones who feel it and still get up.” Sara left the shelter feeling lighter.

She felt she had closed a door that had been open for years. She wasn’t the same person anymore. She no longer had to explain herself or justify her existence. When she got home, Alejandro was waiting for her in the living room. She sat next to him. “How did it go?” “Good. I went to face them.” “Do you regret it?” “Not at all. I feel free.” “And now what?” “Now, whatever comes. But with me standing tall.” Alejandro hugged her, not like before.

This time, it was different. It was a long, sincere hug, the kind that makes you feel truly at home, at peace. That night, the three of them had dinner together with the TV on in the background. They laughed, talked about silly things, and for a while, everything was normal, truly normal. But while that was happening, Tomás was looking at his phone from an alley.

Someone had recorded Sara’s confrontation at the school without her knowing. She no longer sounded scared; she sounded like something else, like strength. And Tomás didn’t like that at all. Sara thought she had faced the worst, that after everything that had happened, the storm had passed. But Tomás didn’t think so.

Three days after that video at the school, she was returning from grocery shopping with Mateo. They were laughing, carrying a small bag of donuts he had insisted on getting. Just as they were entering the garage, Tomás appeared out of nowhere—thin, dirty, with a wild look in his eyes and a fresh scar on his eyebrow.

“Hey, hey, hey!” he said, approaching quickly. Sara reacted instantly. She pulled Mateo behind her, pushed him toward the main door, and yelled, “Ana, open up, please!” Tomás didn’t try to enter, but he stood less than a meter from her. His voice was low, but his eyes were blazing. “Feeling like a real lady of the house now, huh? I saw you in that video, all brave.

Get out of here, Tomás. I’m warning you, I’m not the same person.” “I can see that. But I’m not the same either. I’m broke, Sara. And you, look at you. With a car, a preppy kid, a nice house. What would it have cost you to help me?” “I don’t owe you anything.” “I took care of you when you were just a kid,” he spat with rage. “You didn’t take care of me, you sold me. Or have you forgotten?” Tomás looked down for a second, then looked up, his expression more twisted than before.

“You think because you talk all proper now, you’re a different person? No, Sara. I know who you are, and I can remind everyone—that kid, that Alejandro, and if I want, the TV, too.” “Do whatever you want. I’m not scared anymore.” “Oh yeah? Let’s see how you handle this,” he said, pulling out his phone and showing her an old photo where Sara appeared beaten, crying, sitting on a curb.

“Remember that night? I do. You were crying like a little girl, begging for someone to get you out of there, and no one came.” Sara gritted her teeth. Her heart was pounding, but she was no longer the same person who hid. She took a step forward. “Delete it.” “And if I don’t?” “Then I’ll deal with you. Because I’ve already spoken to a lawyer. I have ways to defend myself now. And you, if you keep bothering me, you’ll rot in jail.” Just then, Alejandro came out the door.

He had heard the shouting from the window, and when he saw Tomás, he didn’t hesitate. He stood between him and Sara. “You have three seconds to leave,” he said, his face hard. “One.” Tomás looked at him mockingly. “Ooh, I’m so scared.” “Two.” Tomás turned and spat on the ground. “This isn’t over.” “Three.” Alejandro slammed the door in his face.

Inside, Mateo was trembling. He wasn’t crying, but he was pale. “Are you okay?” Sara asked him. He nodded. “Was that him?” “Yes, champ. But he’s not coming back.” That night, Alejandro and Sara sat alone in the dining room. The tension was thick. She didn’t know how to start, but he was direct. “Are you tired?” “No. But I’m fed up.” “Fed up with what?” “With having to justify my existence, with everyone waiting for me to mess up, with carrying things I never asked for.

But I’m also tired of running,” Alejandro looked at her calmly, not interrupting. “So if you’re willing to stay with me, with everything I am, the good and the bad, then I’m staying too. And if things get more complicated?” “Then we face them together.” Alejandro took her hand. “I don’t care about your past, Sara. I care about what you do today.

And what you’re doing today is taking care of my son, making me laugh, and filling this house with life.” She looked him in the eyes. There were no more doubts or fears, only decision. “So, what are we?” she asked. Alejandro smiled slightly. “Whatever you want us to be.” Sara took a deep breath, as if releasing years of burden. “Then we’re a team.” “Yes. A team that doesn’t back down.”

That night, they watched a movie in the living room with Mateo, the three of them huddled under a blanket. And although the world outside remained the same, inside, something had already changed. But what no one expected was that there was still one more truth to come out. One that didn’t come from Lucía, or Tomás, or the recent past. It came from much further back, and it would change everything.

A week after Tomás’s last appearance, things were calmer. Alejandro had filed a formal complaint. Sara gave her statement, nervous but steady. The police took their information, reviewed the security camera footage, and promised to keep an eye out. Since then, Tomás hadn’t shown up again, at least not physically. But he had left something behind. One afternoon, Sara received an envelope with no return address.

Someone had left it on the front gate. Ana found it when she returned from the market and handed it to her. “This is for you.” Sara took it suspiciously. It looked old and wrinkled, with her name written in large, handwritten letters: Sara. She opened it slowly, as if something might explode inside.

There was only one thing: a yellowed sheet of paper folded in four and a photo attached with tape. In the photo were two children. A boy of about five, with a dirty face, big eyes, and messy hair, and a girl of about three hugging him. They were both standing in front of a very poor house with cinder blocks, half-built, and a fallen fence. There was something written on the back of the photo: Don’t forget me, little sister.

Sara felt a blow to her chest, a ringing in her ears. She dropped the paper on the table and held her head in her hands. This wasn’t just any photo. It was from when she lived with her grandmother, before she was taken to the orphanage, before everything fell apart. “That boy,” she said softly, her voice broken. Alejandro entered at that moment, noticed her expression, and approached without a word.

She showed him the photo. “Do you recognize him?” “No. Who is it?” “That’s Tomás.” Alejandro’s eyes widened. “What?” “He’s my brother. When we were kids, we lived with our grandmother. Our parents disappeared. He always said he would take care of me, that he would never leave me. But one night, he didn’t come back. We thought he had been taken or that something had happened to him. Then came the system. They separated all the kids in the area.

I never heard from him again. Until now.” A heavy silence filled the room. Alejandro sat down, unsure what to say. “And you knew it was him?” “No, I swear I didn’t. I never made the connection. When I saw him as an adult, he was already changed. He had lived through a thousand things, just like me. I never imagined it was him.” “And why would he send you this now?” “I don’t know.

Maybe to confuse me, or maybe so I wouldn’t hate him so much.” Sara didn’t know what to feel. All the rage, fear, and guilt swirled with something deeper: the pain of losing her only family and discovering he had been close all this time.

That night, she locked herself in her room and opened a box where she kept important things. There, she found an old notebook. On one of the pages, she had written the only thing she remembered from her childhood: a name, a drawing of a star, and the word “Tomás” in crayon. It was confirmed. He had always been there; only time, the street, and anger had erased him from her mind. The next morning, Sara went out alone. She didn’t tell anyone.

She walked to the last shelter where she knew Tomás sometimes stayed. He wasn’t there, but a woman recognized her. “Looking for him?” she asked, smoking. “Yes, I just want to talk.” “He came by two nights ago. Said he was leaving, that this city had nothing left for him. He left this.” The woman handed her a folded piece of paper. Sara opened it. It was short. *I didn’t know how to take care of you. The street won. Forgive me, if you can.

Don’t look for yourself in me anymore. Be happy, Sara.* That was all. Sara didn’t cry. She didn’t scream. She just folded the paper and walked back in silence. She no longer needed answers. She didn’t need to know why. She just needed to close that door. And she had. That night, she told Alejandro everything.

“He was my brother. The one who left me, the one who sold me, the one who found me again. And still, he kept hurting me. But he was also the boy who carried me when we were cold, the one who made up stories so I wouldn’t cry. I can’t erase what was, but I don’t want to live with it stuck inside me anymore.” Alejandro took her hand. She squeezed it tightly. “I’m not going to get stuck there. Not anymore.” “You’re ready,” he said without hesitation.

She nodded. Days later, Mateo came home with a drawing: three people and a giant heart above them. He had written their names: Mateo, Sara, Dad. And in a corner, in shaky handwriting, he added another word: Family. Sara hugged him so tightly the boy grunted again. But this time, she didn’t let go. She had no reason to run.