~Elena’s POV~My father looks smaller than I have ever seen him. Intubated, bandaged, machines breathing for him. The steady beep of monitors is the only sign he is alive.I sink into the chair beside his bed, take his hand.Mateo stands behind me, one hand on my shoulder.“I’m sorry, Papa,” I whisper. “I’m sorry for all of it. For the shame, for the reporters, for not coming home when you asked.” My voice cracks. “Please don’t die, please. I need you to meet Mateo properly, I need you to yell at him, interrogate him, all the things you should get to do.”The machines beep, my father doesn’t move.My phone buzzes. Sofia: *Just boarded the train. Will be there in 90 minutes.*Then another text. Unknown number.I open it.My blood turns to ice.It is a photo of me, naked on Mateo’s platform. High resolution, clearly identifiable. Below it:*Tomorrow’s front page. Thought you should see it first. Any comment for the article? - Javier Ruiz, El Periódico*I show Mateo.His face goes white.
ปรับปรุงล่าสุด : 2025-12-03 อ่านเพิ่มเติม