12. Luis Comes Downstairs
Luis appeared at the top of the stairs.
“What’s going on?”
He saw my ankle support.
Then Dad holding Mateo.
Then his mother’s face.
“Camila?”
I looked at him.
“I’m going to Dad’s house.”
He frowned.
“Why?”
I stared at him.
“Because I hurt my ankle yesterday, and today I had to walk to the store with our baby because your mother wouldn’t give me the car.”
He looked toward Rosa.
“Mom?”
She waved her hand.
“She exaggerates everything.”
Dad’s voice became firm.
“Luis, she has a documented injury. We just came from the clinic.”
Luis looked at me again.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
I almost laughed.
“I did.”
13. The Silence
Luis looked away.
He remembered.
I’d told him when I fell.
I’d asked him for a ride.
I’d told him I couldn’t walk comfortably.
He’d said he’d handle it.
Then he hadn’t.
Rosa tried to interrupt.
“She’s making this into a huge drama.”
Dad looked at her.
“Rosa, enough.”
She stared at him.
He continued.
“I’m not discussing whether my daughter deserves access to medical care or transportation for her child.”
The hallway went quiet.
Then he turned to me.
“Camila, what do you want to take tonight?”
I swallowed.
“Mateo’s things. My clothes. My documents.”
He nodded.
“Let’s get them.”
14. The Bedroom
I climbed the stairs slowly.
Dad carried Mateo.
Luis followed us.
Our bedroom looked exactly as I’d left it.
A basket of unfolded laundry sat near the bed.
Mateo’s diapers were stacked beside the dresser.
My work laptop rested on a small table.
I opened the closet.
Luis stood behind me.
“Camila, you don’t have to leave.”
I kept packing.
“Yes, I do.”
“We can talk.”
“We’ve been talking for months.”
He looked at the floor.
“I didn’t know it was this bad.”
I turned toward him.
“You knew your mother had the car. You knew I was paying for it. You knew I was injured.”
He said nothing.
“You just didn’t want to upset her.”
His silence answered me.
