“No, Lucía,” María said through clenched teeth. “We’re leaving. Now.”

But her daughter shook her head.

“Mom… he’s not following me because he wants to hurt me.”

Lucía stepped forward — just one tiny step — but it was enough to shift the world beneath María’s feet.

“He’s following me…”
Her voice trembled.
“…because he knows who I am.”

But there was something in Lucía’s voice. It wasn’t fear. It was… something else.

The man took a step back, keeping his hands raised. His voice came out soft, almost broken.