Three days since her small body gave up after nearly a year of illness—fought mostly by Yoana alone. Alone during early hospital visits. Alone paying for expensive medication. Alone through tests, transfusions, long taxi rides, and cold cups of coffee. Alone while Raúl claimed he was “working extra” to help.
And now he had arrived. Well-dressed. Polished. With someone else.
Aunt Estela was the first to speak.
—You shameless man! How dare you show up like this?
Raúl raised his hand slightly, uneasy.
—Don’t make a scene. I’m not here to argue.
“No,” Yoana replied calmly, her voice colder than anger. “You created the scene the moment you walked in.”
The young woman loosened her grip on his hand, confused.
—I… I didn’t know it would be like this…
