The promise she’d made echoed in her mind. Daniel’s serious face, his insistence that she never enter his father’s room, his warning that breaking this boundary could destroy their family.
But a human being was upstairs, alone and helpless.
Her heart pounding, Lucía ran up the stairs and stood outside Rafael’s door. She knocked softly, though she knew he couldn’t respond.
“Mr. Herrera? It’s Lucía. Enrique had an accident and can’t be here today. I’m… I’m coming in to check on you.”
She turned the handle and pushed the door open.
The smell hit her immediately—a sharp, unpleasant odor that spoke of hours without proper care. The room was dim, curtains drawn against the afternoon sun, and it took a moment for her eyes to adjust. When they did, she saw Rafael in the hospital bed that dominated the center of the room, his eyes wide and focused directly on her.He was clearly uncomfortable, clearly in distress. His expression—the only thing he could control—showed a mixture of desperation and humiliation. His eyes seemed to be pleading with her, begging for help despite the shame of needing it.
