The man lifted both hands — not threatening, not defensive — just open.

The item he’d pulled from his pocket flashed in the sun.

A wallet.

“Ma’am, please,” he said gently. “This isn’t—”

“Don’t. Talk.”
Her voice cracked with fury and terror.

She felt Lucía pressed against her back, breathing fast… yet strangely calm. Too calm.

And then—

“Mom,” Lucía whispered, tugging on her sleeve, “you have to listen to him.”

María froze.

Listen to him?
To the stranger who had followed her daughter for days?
The stranger who had kept her baby awake at night?
The man who had stolen her child’s sense of safety and replaced it with fear?