He did not have to.

Karla crossed her legs in my living room.

“I don’t want to fight, Mom. I only want what is fair. Emiliano needs a mother who knows how to manage his future.”

Emiliano remained silent.

Too silent.

“Mijo,” I whispered.

He lifted one hand gently, asking me not to speak.

Then he removed his headphones.

He looked at Karla for the first time since she entered, and his voice came out low, calm, and terrifyingly steady.

“Let her talk.”

Karla smiled.

She thought he was surrendering.

But Emiliano touched one key on his tablet.

The television turned on by itself.

A folder appeared on the screen.

The title made the whole room go cold.

“Evidence Against My Mother.”

Part 2

For a few seconds, no one moved.

The only sound was the faint hum of the television and the tiny electronic click as Emiliano opened the folder. Blue light washed over Karla’s face, turning her red lipstick dark and sharp. Her smile remained, but it no longer belonged to her. It looked trapped there, like a mask she was suddenly afraid to remove.

Attorney Ramírez frowned.

“What is this?” he asked.

Emiliano did not answer him.

He placed his tablet on the arm of his chair, lowered the volume, and selected the first file.

A photograph appeared on the screen.

It was old and slightly blurry, but I recognized it instantly.

The note.

The same note Karla had pinned to his chest 11 years before.

“I can’t handle him. You take care of him.”

The room seemed to shrink around those words.

I stared at the screen, stunned. I had thought the note was lost. I had thought only my memory held it now, stained by panic and grief. But there it was.