“And he will,” Mendez replied. But first I want the entire custody file of the child, the psychological interviews and any record of Aunt Clara’s visits. Everything. In my office. In ten minutes.
The woman paled and left without protest.
Ramira continued to hug her daughter as if someone were going to snatch her again.
Mendez leaned slightly forward, just enough to be at the height of Salome’s eyes.
Would you recognize that man if you saw a picture?
The girl nodded without hesitation.
“Yes.
-Okay.
He looked at Ramira.
For five years, every time I saw him cross the room, he felt the same mixture of hatred and resignation. He was the face of the end. The man who signed schedules, protocols and silence agreements. But now, in that narrow room with the smell of iron and disinfectant, Mendez did not look like an executioner. He seemed like a tired old man who had just realized that maybe he had been leading an innocent woman to death.
“Madam Fuentes,” he said finally. I need you to tell me exactly the same thing you said to me in your first statement, without omitting anything, even if I think it doesn’t matter anymore. Ramira looked at him as one who sees a door open after years of headbutt against the wall.
“Are you going to listen to me now?”
It took him a second to answer.
“Yes.
Leave a Comment