The driver didn’t speak, only adjusted the rearview mirror once, as if checking something behind us that I refused to turn around and face again.
Sofía rested her head against my shoulder, her small fingers gripping the fabric of my blouse as if afraid I might disappear too.
Emiliano sat beside me, unusually quiet, staring straight ahead with that expression he used when he was trying to understand something too big for him.
I could feel the weight of their silence more than any words, like a question neither of them knew how to ask yet.
My phone vibrated again in my hand, the screen lighting up with another message from my lawyer, but I didn’t open it immediately.
For a few seconds, I just watched my own reflection in the darkened glass, barely recognizing the woman looking back at me.
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