The rain hammered the roof like gunfire.
Lucía stepped between the man and the twins, shaking but refusing to move.
“Don’t hurt them…” she whispered.
The man laughed—cold, broken.
“You think I came for them?”
Alejandro stepped forward, calm but tense.
“Put it down. Whatever this is, we can talk.”
The man’s eyes snapped to him.
“You don’t understand,” he growled.
“She stole from me.”
Lucía flinched.
“I didn’t steal…” she said. “I just wanted milk…”
The man’s grip tightened around the metal object.
Alejandro noticed something then—his hands were shaking.
Not rage.
Fear.
Sirens suddenly echoed in the distance.
The man looked toward the sound… and hesitated.
That hesitation changed everything.
Lucía’s mother suddenly coughed violently behind them.
Barely alive… but still there.
The man froze.
“Clara…” he whispered.
Alejandro’s eyes narrowed.
“You know her.”
The man lowered the weapon slightly.
“I tried to save them,” he said quietly.
“But no one helped… no hospital… no money…”
Lucía cried out:
“She said you left us!”
Silence.
The truth cracked open in the room like lightning.
The man dropped to his knees.
“I didn’t leave…” he said.
“I was blocked… I was threatened… I was—”
A sudden crash outside.
Black vehicles.
Men stepping out.
Not police.
Something worse.
Alejandro’s phone rang. One message:
“Do not interfere. She is not your responsibility.”
He looked up.
The real enemy had arrived.
And now… they were all trapped inside the shack.
