Daniela stepped forward.
“Dad—”
“No,” I said, raising a hand.
I looked at Marina.
“Then what was it about?”
She exhaled slowly.
Looked at Héctor.
Then back at me.
And said—
“It was about you.”
The words hit harder than anything Emiliano had told me.
I felt my pulse in my throat.
“In what way?” I asked.
She stepped closer.
Slow.
Careful.
Like approaching something fragile.
“You haven’t been taking your medication,” she said.
I blinked.
“What?”
“For your heart,” she added.
I stared at her.
“That’s not—”
“Yes,” Daniela cut in, her voice shaking. “It is.”
I turned to her.
“You’ve been skipping doses,” she said. “We checked.”
My stomach dropped.
“How would you—”
“You left the bottles in the cabinet,” she said. “They’re still full.”
I felt something collapse inside me.
“I’ve been fine,” I said.
“No,” Marina said softly. “You’ve been pretending to be fine.”
