“I’m not here to replace anyone,” Lucía said evenly. “I’m here to care for a child who’s hurting.”
Her confidence irritated him — and intrigued him.
“You start now.”
After leaving for work, Sebastián couldn’t shake the feeling that Lucía was different. She didn’t seem intimidated. She didn’t seem desperate.
And that made him uneasy.
On the way to the office, he called a security company.
“I need discreet cameras installed throughout my home.”
By that evening, tiny lenses were hidden in smoke detectors, clocks, ceiling corners. Full coverage. Live access. Audio included.
Control.
Or so he told himself.
The next morning, he opened the app.
At 8:15, Lucía entered Mateo’s room.
“Good morning, Mateo.”
“My mom used to make eggs with cheese,” Mateo murmured at breakfast.
Instead of dismissing it, Lucía smiled.
“Then you’ll have to teach me how she made them.”
For the first time in months, Sebastián saw his son smile.
Later, through the audio feed, he heard Mateo whisper:
“I miss my mom every day.”
“It’s okay to miss her,” Lucía replied softly. “Being strong doesn’t mean pretending you don’t hurt.”
“Can I hug you?”
“Yes.”
Sebastián had to close the app. His hands were shaking.
This wasn’t manipulation.