Alejandro did not respond immediately.
He bent down slightly and took hold of the edge of the sheet.
He revealed more of the woman’s leg.
There was more dried blood.
Bruises.
And an inflammation that did not correspond to a simple fever.
The man took a sudden step.
—Don’t touch that.
Too late.
Alejandro had already seen it.
And I had also seen Lucia’s expression.
The expression of a girl who had been living with secrets that no one should mention.
Outside, the siren sounded closer.
The man tensed up.Generated image
—I had no right to call anyone.
“She could have died,” replied Alejandro.
—He’s not dead yet.
Lucia let out a stifled sob.
That phrase landed like a stone in the middle of the room.
Alejandro understood everything a little better.
He wasn’t a scared husband.
He was not a man overwhelmed by poverty.
He was annoyed because the victim kept causing him problems.
The ambulance finally stopped outside.
Doors were heard opening.
Quick steps.
Voices.
And then the man did the worst thing he could do: he moved towards the bed, as if he wanted to prevent them from touching the woman.
Alejandro blocked his path.
There was no punch.
