Chapter 1 - The Door Behind Her
“Please, don’t let her touch my mother!”
The scream came from the hallway as Mariana fought to keep her balance.
Captain Julián Lozano had barely stepped through the back door when he saw the hot iron in his mother’s hand.
On the dining table sat a custody petition with Mariana’s name on it.
But beneath the papers was something Julián recognized immediately.
His own military identification number.
Someone had been planning this for months.
Mariana heard the back door slam open.
She turned so quickly that pain shot through her lower back.
Rocío did not move.
For one frozen second, all three stared at one another.
Julián stood in the doorway wearing his camouflage uniform, a dusty backpack hanging from one shoulder and his military cap clenched in his hand.
He looked exhausted.
He looked confused.
But most of all, he looked alive.
Mariana’s eyes filled with tears.
“Julián…”
His gaze moved from her face to her enormous pregnant belly.
Then to the iron.
Then to the stack of documents.
His expression changed.
“What is this?”
Rocío recovered first.
She lowered the iron and smiled.
“Thank God you’re home.”
Mariana almost laughed.
Not because anything was funny.
Because she had spent two nights believing her husband was dead.
She had cried into her pillow.
She had pressed his old shirt against her face.
She had wondered whether their son would ever know his father.
And now he was standing three yards away.
Alive.
Rocío walked toward him.
“You were supposed to call before coming home.”
“I wanted to surprise Mariana.”
His eyes never left his wife.
“What happened?”
Rocío sighed.
“She had another episode.”
Mariana’s stomach tightened.
“What?”
Rocío pointed toward her.
“She became convinced I was trying to steal the baby.”
Julián stared at his mother.
Then he looked at Mariana.
“Were you?”
Mariana swallowed.
“I never said anything about stealing until today.”
Rocío shook her head.
“She’s confused.”
Julián stepped closer.
“Then why were you holding an iron?”
Rocío glanced at the appliance.
“I was ironing.”
“In the dining room?”
Silence.
Mariana slowly reached toward the table.
“Check the blue drawer.”
Rocío’s face changed.
Julián noticed.
He walked to the kitchen.
Opened the drawer.
And stopped.
Inside were Mariana’s phones.
Her bank card.
Her identification.
Medical documents.
Three envelopes.
A second SIM card.
And a folder containing printed messages.
Julián picked up the first page.
The message appeared to come from Mariana.
It said she was hearing voices.
That she distrusted her doctors.
That she feared she might hurt the baby.
His jaw tightened.
“I never received these.”
Rocío crossed her arms.
“You were deployed.”
“I received every message Mariana sent me.”
He turned another page.
His face became colder.
“This isn't her writing.”
Mariana whispered, “She took my phone.”
Rocío snapped, “Enough.”
Julián looked at his mother.
“Where is the military notice?”
Rocío went still.
Mariana pointed to the table.
“It says you were injured.”
Julián picked up the envelope.
He studied the seal.
Then the signature.
“This is fake.”
Rocío’s face drained of color.
Mariana finally breathed.
She had been right.
Something had been terribly wrong.
Julián pulled out his phone.
“I’m calling the police.”
Rocío lunged toward him.
“No.”
Julián stepped backward.
“Don’t touch me.”
“I’m your mother.”
“And she is my wife.”
Mariana suddenly gripped the edge of the table.
A deep pressure seized her abdomen.
“Julián…”
He rushed toward her.
“What is it?”
Her face went white.
“I think…”
Warm fluid suddenly ran down her legs.
Rocío stared at her.
Then at the floor.
And for the first time since Julián entered, she looked genuinely afraid.
Outside, sirens began approaching.
Rocío whispered,
“You still don’t understand.”
Julián turned toward her.
“Understand what?”
Rocío looked at Mariana’s belly.
“I don't need you.”
Her eyes hardened.
“I need the baby.”
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Then the lights in the house suddenly went out.
And from upstairs came the sound of a door unlocking.
