The only sound in the kitchen was my broken breathing and the slow dripping of dirty water from my clothes onto the floor.
Javier stood frozen in the doorway.
His eyes moved from me, lying on the cold tiles with one hand wrapped around my stomach, to his mother, who was standing beside the bucket with an expression I had never seen before.
Not guilt.
Not regret.
Fear.
“Laura?” Javier finally whispered.
His voice sounded different. Confused. Terrified.
I tried to answer, but the pain was too intense. My body was shaking, and every breath felt like it was cutting through me.
“My baby…” I managed to say. “Javier… something is wrong.”
That was all it took.
The color disappeared from his face.
