“You don’t ever have to earn your place beside me,” I said quietly, but clearly enough for everyone to hear. “You already have it.”
Her eyes filled with tears—but this time, they weren’t just from fear.
They were something else.
Something breaking open.
Something finally being seen.
I turned back to the room one last time.
“This ends tonight,” I said.
No anger.
No shouting.
Just certainty.
Then I took Lucía’s hand again.
And together—we walked out.
Not downstairs.
Not back to that kitchen.
But out of the house entirely.
Behind us, the silence we left behind said more than any argument ever could.
And for the first time that night—
Lucía didn’t look afraid.
She looked… free.
