For almost a year they had been “my support.” They showed up with broth, herbal drinks, vitamins, cut fruit. They hugged me when I cried. They kept telling me everything would be fine. I believed them. I opened my house to them. I opened the door to my son’s room.
And then I heard Paola let out a nervous little laugh.
—As long as no one suspects anything, everything will go the way it’s supposed to.
I felt my heart slam so hard I almost let out a scream. I pressed myself against the wall and, with trembling hands, pulled out my phone. I didn’t even know what I was doing until I saw it was already recording.
My mother spoke again, calm, cold, as if she were talking about the weather.
—He’s already weaker. The doctors are still clueless. When he finally goes out, Daniel is going to understand what it feels like to lose everything.
For a second my mind refused to understand.
They weren’t talking about just anything.
They were talking about Mateo.
I felt nauseated. I couldn’t breathe. And then I heard the worst part.



