A hungry child knocks on the door of a mansion, unaware that the millionaire was crying for the loss of his son. What he didn’t know was that this child was… The rain fell reluctantly, just enough to cool the body and leave everything dirty and sadder.

The city streets were half-empty because it was Sunday afternoon, and at that time, most people were either sleeping or watching TV, their feet cracked and bare. He stared at the fence without moving, his lips were tingling, and his stomach was rumbling.

He hadn’t eaten in two days. His name was Beto pants, although no one had asked him in a long time. He grabbed his stomach with one hand and wiped his snot with his sleeve. He hesitated for a few seconds, then walked straight to the gate. He didn’t know. Why did he do it? Maybe he was just hungry, or maybe something in his stomach was telling him to try. He raised his hand and rang the doorbell. It sounded like a dry buzz that echoed in his head. He waited. No one answered. He rang again, this time a little louder. Inside the house, Ricardo was sitting in a leather armchair with a half-empty bottle of whiskey on the table. His face was dull, his eyes red, and he had a photo in his hand.

In that photo was his son Emiliano, with a huge smile showing his crooked teeth and his hair wet from jumping in the pool. Ricardo hadn’t left that room in two days. It had been a week since Emiliano died in the hospital after months of fighting an illness that was slowly taking him away. The first time the doorbell rang, he didn’t even notice. When it rang again, he raised his head in annoyance, frowned, wiped his face with his hands, and walked lazily toward the entrance monitor. He saw a thin, wet boy with his clothes stuck to his body from the rain. He pressed a button and He spoke. Who are you? The boy remained silent for a few seconds. His voice came out low with fear. I’m hungry. Ricardo didn’t say anything. He released the button. He thought about locking his face in, but something stung his chest. Something strange, like a pang. He pressed the button again. Where are your parents? I don’t have any. Ricardo sighed loudly. He was about to turn off the monitor when he felt the air grow heavy. The boy continued standing there without moving. He looked like a stray dog, one that isn’t used to being spoken to nicely. After a few seconds that felt like forever, Ricardo pressed another button. The gate opened. The boy entered slowly, looking around him as if he were walking in another world. The floor was clean, there was no trash, and the plants smelled good. He approached the main door, which opened by itself. Ricardo was waiting for him with a sour face. Beto looked down and said nothing. What do you want to ask? Ricardo, without stopping looking at him? Just a loaf of bread. Whatever I have. Beto said without looking up. Ricardo felt something in his stomach, something he didn’t know if it was anger, sadness, or both. He gestured for him to come in. Beto walked carefully, almost on tiptoe.

Entering such a large house scared him. The air smelled of wood, expensive perfume, and something else, something he couldn’t identify. Marcela was upstairs, leaning against the railing. She had heard the conversation from her bedroom. Her face was pale, with dark circles under her eyes, and her arms were as thin as branches. She had been battling cancer for months, which wouldn’t leave her alone, and the news of her son’s death had been like a kick in the chest. When she saw the boy from the stairs, something moved inside her. The boy looked at her too, and for a moment neither of them moved. It was as if they were recognizing each other without knowing each other. “Have you eaten today?” she asked. The boy shook his head. “Come on, I’ll give you something,” she said, and started walking toward the kitchen. Ricardo tried to stop her. “Marcela, it’s raining. He’s alone and he’s hungry. Don’t be like that, Ricardo.”

The man clenched his jaw but said nothing. Beto followed her with slow steps. The kitchen was huge and white, with everything in its place. Marcela took out bread, milk, and some ham and began to put together a plate. The boy couldn’t stop staring at the food, but he stood still as if he didn’t dare to move. “Sit down,” she told him. Peto sat on the edge of the bench and began to eat slowly, as if he thought he was going to be kicked out at any moment. Marcela looked at him silently. Ricardo also watched him, but with a heavy heart.

The way that boy ate, the movements, the look, reminded her of Emiliano. “Where do you sleep?” Ricardo asked suddenly. “Where do I catch the night? Sometimes in parks, sometimes on subway benches?” Marcela took a deep breath. “And if you stay here tonight, Ricardo looked at her, surprised. We don’t know who he is or what his intentions are.”

He’s a child, Ricardo. He’s not a thief, he’s just a child. Beto stopped eating and lowered his head. “I don’t want to bother you.”

He was only hungry. Marcela approached him and touched his shoulder. You’re not bothering me. Stay today. We’ll see what happens tomorrow. Beto looked at her with shining eyes. He nodded slowly. That night, for the first time in a long time, he slept in a bed with a blanket and a roof without fear. And although he didn’t know it, his life was about to change forever. Ricardo got up early even though he had hardly slept at all. He spent the night tossing and turning thinking about that boy who was now in
the guest room downstairs. Every time he closed his eyes, Emiliano came to mind, in his dinosaur pajamas, jumping on the bed asking for cereal, running through the garden. All that no longer existed. Only that horrible silence in the house remained, that emptiness that couldn’t be filled with anything, not with whiskey, not with photos, not with tears.

He went to the kitchen and poured himself a black coffee without sugar. He looked out into the garden. He was worried. The weather was the same as the day they buried his son. Suddenly, he heard a noise and turned around. There was Beto standing at the entrance to the kitchen with the
same Clothes from the day before, hair disheveled, and eyes still swollen from sleep. Ricardo looked at him without saying anything. The boy looked down as if he was waiting to be kicked out, but nothing happened. All he could hear was the coffee bubbling in the pot and the ticking of the wall clock. Finally, Ricardo broke the silence. Did you sleep, thank you? Are you hungry for a bit? Ricardo took out some bread and jam. He wasn’t a good cook, but it was something. He put everything on the table and sat on the other side. Beto ate in silence. Every now and then he looked up to see if the man was still looking at him. And yes, Ricardo was looking at him, but not angrily. He looked at him like someone trying to understand something. After a few minutes, the silence returned, becoming tiresome. Ricardo swallowed and said, “My son was also your age.” Nine Beto stopped eating Where is he? Dead for a week. Oh, sorry. Ricardo moving forward. He didn’t say anything else. He just stood there looking at the table. Memories flashed through his head like scenes from a movie. Emiliano on the swing. Emiliano laughing with his mouth full of ice cream. Emiliano with tubes in his arms in the hospital telling her he didn’t want any more needles. Marcela walked down the stairs slowly. She was wearing a gray gown and it was obvious she could barely handle herself. Beto stood up when he saw her and wanted to clear the plates as if he were embarrassed to be seen eating. She was smiling a little. Don’t worry. Finish eating. Do you want coffee? Ricardo asked his wife. He didn’t just want to see how she was doing. She sat down at the table next to them. The atmosphere felt strange, as if everyone was carrying something very heavy. No one said anything, but it was clear that everyone had their own ghosts in their heads. And what’s your name? Marcela asked softly. Beto. Only Beto. Yes. And your parents, I don’t know. I never met them. Ricardo and Marcela looked at each other for a second. She lowered her head. look You could see the pain in his eyes He felt like hugging that boy but he didn’t Not yet After breakfast Beto helped pick up the dishes He didn’t know where everything went but he tried Ricardo saw him and didn’t know what to feel sad On one hand it hurt him to see that boy in his house as if nothing had happened On the other hand there was something about him that reminded him so much of Emiliano that his heart began to tremble Beto spent the rest of the morning walking through the garden He touched the plants he saw the fish in the fountain and every so often he sat on a stone bench to look at the sky It was as if his body was there but his mind was far away somewhere else looking for something he no longer had Inside Marcela was lying on the couch She had a blanket on her legs and a pill under her tongue She was breathing slowly with effort Ricardo sat next to her and stroked her hair Do you think we did the right thing by letting him stay I don’t know but he’s alone just like us Ricardo didn’t answer he just stayed there in silence listening to the tick of the clock and the sound of the rain that began to fall slowly again In the afternoon, Beto was offered a clean change of clothes; it belonged to Emiliano. The boy hesitated a little, but finally accepted. He went up with Ricardo to the room where all the clothes were stored. When he opened the door, the smell of a child returned like a slap. There were the toys, the unmade bed, the rocket-shaped lamp, the dinosaur books. Beto didn’t want to go in completely. He stood in the doorway looking.

It was his room. Yes. He liked dinosaurs a lot. Beto stood out a little. Me too. Ricardo went to a drawer. He took out a t-shirt with a green Treex and a pair of shorts. He gave them to him without speaking. Beto hugged them as if they were a Christmas present. Thank you. You can change in the bathroom, it’s at the end of the hall. Beto stirred and left. Ricardo stayed in the room for a while longer. He said to himself in bed, pick up a ball that was on the floor and pressed it hard. He closed his eyes and for a moment he swore he heard his son’s laughter. It hurt again. It hurt a lot. That night, Marcela had a fever again. Ricardo called. to the doctor who arrived quickly

and adjusted his medication Beto sat in the living room in silence He listened to the footsteps, the murmurs, the tension in the air He didn’t understand much but he did know what it was like to see someone sick On the street he had seen many leave without anyone to help them When everything calmed down Ricardo went down and found him awake He hasn’t slept He’s not okay He’s going to be okay Beto didn’t say anything just moving forward Go to sleep it’s late Good night Mr. Ricardo Ricardo hesitated for a second Just tell me Ricardo It’s okay Good night Ricardo He went up to his room and got into bed Despite being tired he couldn’t sleep That house was full of memories of love, of loss, of moments that would never return And now for some reason he still didn’t understand there was a new child there breathing eating talking giving a little life to what seemed dead Monday dawned gray The sky seemed to be still crying just like the house Outside the city moved as always with cars honking and honking the tamale vendor shouting on the corner and people running to get to time to who knows where But inside that house everything went slower as if time walked with dragging feet Beto woke up with the sound of a blender He wasn’t used to that On the street what woke him up was a dog barking or a car starting loudly He opened his eyes and stared at the white ceiling for a while It was hard for him to believe he was in a real bed He rubbed his eyes stretched his arms and got up carefully as if he was afraid of being scolded for having slept so much he went down When he got to the kitchen he saw Marcela sitting at the counter with a hot cup in her hands She looked tired but she smiled slightly as if seeing him would make her forget the pain for a while Ricardo wasn’t there According to Marcela, he had left early to run some errands Beto sat on the same bench as the day before and waited without saying anything He didn’t ask, didn’t demand, he just waited Marcela poured him a glass of milk and put some cookies on a plate “Did you sleep well?” She asked, “Yes, thank you very much. You look more awake today.” Beto looked down and smiling a little He ate a cookie Then another as if each bite was something strange something new Marcela watched him with a mixture of tenderness and sadness Honestly, don’t you have a family, do you? And how did you end up living on the streets, I don’t know? One day I woke up there I used to live with a man who gave me food but then he didn’t want me to stay anymore he said I talked a lot Marcela frowned Don’t you remember anything before that I don’t only know that my name is Beto Well that’s what they called me And I don’t have your last name Marcela stayed quiet I wanted to ask more things but I didn’t want to make him feel uncomfortable It was quite strange that a 9 year old boy didn’t know where he came from or who he was Something about Beto’s story didn’t add up but it didn’t sound like a lie either It was more like a big hole full of things that he himself didn’t understand After breakfast Beto put on the clean clothes they had given him It was a little loose but he looked better He looked like a homeboy not one who slept in cardboard boxes I walk through the house curious with his eyes wide open His attention was caught by the paintings, the furniture, the family photos. One of those photos left him paralyzed. It was a photo of Emiliano in the garden with a ball in his hand and the sun behind him. His teeth were crooked, just like him. He stood there for a long time looking at the photo. He didn’t know exactly what he felt. It wasn’t envy, it was something stranger, like sadness mixed with something nice, as if he had liked that boy without knowing him. In the afternoon, Ricardo returned.
He entered seriously, with papers in his hand. He greeted without much enthusiasm and went straight to his office. But before closing the door, he glanced at Beto, who was sitting on the floor putting together a half-finished puzzle. After a while, Ricardo came out with a question stuck in his throat. You don’t go to school. Beto looked at him from the floor. No, you never went. You don’t know how to read a little, add more or less. Ricardo crossed his arms. And what do you plan to do with your life? Beto shrugged his shoulders. Live. Ricardo didn’t know whether to laugh or get angry, but in the end, he didn’t say anything else.
He went into his office and closed the door. Marcela appeared shortly after. She sat down next to Beto on the floor and began to help with the puzzle. He looked at her, surprised. “Yes, it can be on the floor, of course it can?” They ran over him. Sometimes he dreamed of a woman who hugged him but never saw his face. Marcela listened attentively without interrupting, as if each word were a part of the puzzle too. At dusk, Ricardo saw them from the stairs. He didn’t say anything, he just stared at that image that stirred his soul. For a second, he thought it was Emiliano down there with his mother, but no. It was another child, one who had no history, one who was somehow already entering theirs. Before going to sleep, Beto went to the bathroom. When he came out, he stopped in front of Emiliano’s room. The door was ajar. He pushed slowly and

He entered quietly. Everything was the same. The
toys, the books, the made bed. He walked slowly, touching things with his fingertips. He sat on the edge of the bed and stayed there looking at the lit lamp. It was a spaceship spinning very slowly. Ricardo found him there minutes later. He had fallen asleep curled up in a ball hugging an old stuffed animal. For a second, he thought about waking him up, but he didn’t. He just covered him with a blanket and turned off the light. As he left the room, he carefully closed the door and stood for a moment with his hand on the knob. Something in his heart was moving. He didn’t know if for better or worse, but it was moving. The routine in the house began to change, even though no one said it out loud. The mornings were no longer silent.

From early on, small footsteps could be heard in the kitchen, spoons clicking against glasses, or Beto’s voice asking if he could help with anything. It wasn’t that he became part of the family overnight, but little by little, it began to be noticed that he was no longer just a guest. Marcela treated him as if he were her own. She prepared breakfasts with the little energy she had. She reminded him to brush his teeth, not to sit with his feet up on the couch. And when Beto did something wrong, like putting on a jumpsuit
a glass or leaving his dirty hands on the wall, she didn’t get angry, she just spoke to him calmly, and without arguing, he would correct what Ricardo had done. Instead, he kept his distance. She didn’t treat him badly, but it was clear that he didn’t know how to handle her presence. One day she would see him playing in the garden and a smile would come to his face, and the next day he would lock himself in his study and wouldn’t even come out to eat. There was something about him that he wouldn’t let go of. As if every time he saw Beto, the pain of losing Emiliano would come back to bite him. Beto could tell, that’s why
he tried not to get in the way. He walked carefully, asked questions before touching anything, and tried not to make a noise. Even so, little by little, he began to do things that showed he felt more secure, like leaving his toothbrush in the guest bathroom or hanging his jacket in the entryway instead of hiding it. One afternoon, Marcela suggested they go over and get a haircut. His hair was already long and tangled. Beto hesitated. He didn’t like being touched, but in the end he bought it. They went to a small, trusted beauty salon where the lady who cut his hair had known Marcela for years. When they were finished, the change was dramatic. Beto looked different, more awake, with clearer eyes. Even he stared at himself in the mirror as if he didn’t recognize his reflection. When he returned home, Ricardo saw him come in with the new haircut. She looked at him for a long moment without saying anything, then went back to reading the newspaper. But Marcela noticed that something in his expression had changed. It wasn’t a smile, but it wasn’t cold either. A few days later, they bought him new clothes, not much, just what was necessary. Pants that wouldn’t fall off, t-shirts without holes, sneakers that didn’t hurt when he walked. Beto didn’t know how to react. They’d never bought him clothes like that. He’d only worn things he’d either worn as gifts or found. When Marcela gave him the bag with everything, he hugged her suddenly, a tight, wordless hug. She felt her heart sink in the house. They weren’t happy with that change, especially Martha the housekeeper. She’d been working with them for many years. and she had always been loyal but deep down she was a tough woman first of fixed ideas Since the day Beto arrived everything in her was activated She didn’t like him She said he had a strange look that he didn’t trust the children who appeared out of nowhere Although she didn’t say it directly it was clear she didn’t want him to stay One day while cleaning the living room she found him looking through the books on the shelf Beto barely touched the covers as if afraid of dislodging something “Have you washed your hands yet Marta asked him without looking at him Yes with soap Yes ma’am Well it doesn’t seem like it Those books aren’t for playing with I’m not playing Well then Get out of the study
Beteto left without saying anything but the discomfort stayed with him like dust Since then he avoided crossing paths with her It was clear that she was watching him that any mistake she was going to use against him Marcela noticed and spoke to Ricardo “I don’t like the way Marta treats him She’s always been like that” he answered But before he had no one to watch him Now she’s watching him like a hawk It’s that he doesn’t trust and I understand her The child arrived out of nowhere We don’t know anything about him. Marcela sighed tiredly. The only thing we know is that he’s alone and needs affection.
Just like us. Ricardo didn’t respond. He stared out the window. In the garden, Beto played with a ball he had found in the cellar. He threw it against a wall and caught it back again and again. There was something so similar to Emiliano in his movement that it hurt. Later, at dinner, the three of them sat down. Ricardo used water. Marcela prepared a simple pasta. Beto helped set the dishes. When he sat down, there was an awkward moment, a pause, as if the three of them knew that this was no longer a visit.

that something had changed Ricardo said in a low voice Would you like to stay here for a while Beto looked up in surprise I really can’t promise anything but if you behave we could see how it goes Marcela smiled Beto growing stronger and although he didn’t cry his eyes said it all Thank you You don’t have to say thank you Just be respectful and obedient Yes And Marcela added cleanly Yes Dinner continued between soft laughter and comfortable silences Outside it was raining again Inside the atmosphere was no longer so cold That night in his room Beto lay down and stared at the ceiling for a while For the first time in a long time he wasn’t afraid of falling asleep He felt like maybe just maybe he had finally found a place where he could breathe easy Everything seemed to be going more or less well Beto was already feeling more relaxed in the house he was starting to laugh more, speak with confidence even asking things like “Can I water the plants?” Or “What if we paint this a different color?” Ricardo still kept his space but he didn’t seem so cold anymore. He even took him to the supermarket once. And although they didn’t say much along the way, the simple fact of inviting him already said enough. He made her dizzy and he would put on the television when she didn’t have the strength to get up. In his own way, they already loved each other. But not everyone was happy with how things were going. Marta began to notice the changes and she didn’t like them. From the kitchen, they could hear her grumbling more often. Sometimes she washed the dishes louder than usual or slammed the drawers shut as if it bothered her that everything was so familiar. One day while cleaning the guest room, she found a small bag with coins and a crumpled 100-peso bill under the bed. She frowned, having learned what she had learned, and went straight to Ricardo. This was hidden under the boy’s bed. And doesn’t it seem strange to you? Could it be what he’s picked up on the street or could it be what he’s stolen here? Ricardo looked at her seriously. Don’t you start, Marta? I’m just telling you what I saw. Ricardo didn’t answer. He took the money. He put it in a drawer and didn’t talk about the subject again. But that night while they were having dinner, he kept glancing at Beto out of the corner of his eye. The boy was talking to Marcela about a program they had seen on TV. She was laughing, moving her hands excitedly, she didn’t seem nervous, she didn’t have a guilty face. But even so, the following doubt had already been planted. The days passed without incident, but something was no longer the same. Ricardo sometimes entered Beto’s room without warning, saying he was going to check if he needed anything, but in reality, he searched him with his eyes. Beto noticed but didn’t say anything, he just looked down. One Saturday morning, Ricardo realized that one of his watches was not in the drawer where he always left it. He searched the whole house. “Nothing,” he asked Marcela, Marta, even the gardener. Nobody knew anything. His mind went straight to Beto. He didn’t want to think the worst, but the idea wouldn’t leave him. That same afternoon, he called Beto at the studio. “Do you know what this is?” he said, showing her a picture of the watch on his cell phone. Yes, I think I saw it in the tub. Well, it’s not there anymore. I didn’t grab it. Are you sure? Ricardo stared at him. Beto held his gaze but then lowered his head. He didn’t cry, he didn’t argue, he just said, “If you want to go through my things.” Ricardo hesitated for a moment, but did it. He checked the boy’s backpack, his clothes, his drawers, nothing. There was no sign of the watch, but something inside was still restless. Marcela got angry when she found out. You really searched him like he was a thief. I had to do it. It’s not just any watch. And what did you find? So nothing stops him from seeing it as a problem. It’s a boy, Ricardo. Yes, a boy we know absolutely nothing about. Beto heard that last part from the hallway. He stood there with his heart pounding in his chest. Then he went into the garden without saying a word. He sat in a corner under the biggest tree and stared at the ground. That night he didn’t want to have dinner. The next day, Marta took advantage of the fact that Ricardo was alone in the kitchen to continue sowing discord. I saw that boy before he arrived. to this house Where did I see him in the neighborhood hanging around the houses I saw him spying through the bars He’s no innocent And why didn’t you say so before Why were you going to tell me I’m exaggerating like always Ricardo looked at her more closely Are you sure, absolutely sure And if you don’t do something, someone else will Ricardo felt trapped between two ideas again Part of him wanted to believe Marcela, trust what he had seen in Beto But another part, harder, more marked by fear and loss, didn’t know what to believe anymore That same afternoon when he went to check the mail he ran into the street watchman Don Chui He asked him if he had seen anything strange lately Nothing strange boss Everything calm And had you seen the boy before Well yes, once I saw him sleeping on the bench on the corner He had been hanging around here for about a week Hanging around How come walking looking at the houses as if looking for something but he never did anything wrong Ricardo thanked him and went back to the house more confused than before He sat in his study alone and stayed

or
looking at an old photo where he, Marcela, and Emiliano were at the beach. He was smiling with sunglasses, she was wearing a braid, and Emiliano was covered in sand, laughing with his mouth open. Beto passed by the open door and saw him. He wanted to go in but stopped. He didn’t know if he was welcome. “Do you want anything?” Ricardo asked without looking up. “I wasn’t just going to see if you needed help with anything.” “No, thank you.” Beto looked down and kept walking. When night came, everyone went to bed, but no one slept at all. The house, which had felt a little more alive before, was filled with strange silences again. Marcela knew something was happening, but she didn’t want to push it. Ricardo didn’t speak, but doubts swirled in his head. And Beto, well, Beto just clung to his pillow and wondered if that place was really for him or if he had just been lent a little bit of calm. Ricardo no longer saw Beto with the same eyes. Something in him had closed up again, like when you get burned and then become afraid of fire, even if you’re just a little. And Beto noticed. He felt it every time he entered the room and Ricardo stopped. talk or when he
tried to tell her something and only received an unattended “uh-huh,” Marcela tried to stay calm and not ask too many questions, but her instinct told her something strange was happening downtown. He said he had to buy some things and that she should go with him. The boy didn’t ask anything, he just got in the car and sat
with his hands on his legs, silent. During the drive, Ricardo turned on the radio, but no one spoke. The traffic was heavy, and the cloudy sky seemed to reflect the atmosphere. When they arrived downtown, Ricardo stopped on a quiet street where several homeless people lived. There were walls covered in graffiti, garbage bags piled up, and a foul smell coming from a drainpipe. “Did you live here?” she asked Ricardo without looking at him. Beto showed him. “Sometimes.” “And with whom?” “With no one,” only. Ricardo turned off the car and looked at him more seriously. “Do you know that one?” The man pointed to an old man sitting on the sidewalk
with a long beard and a dirty hat. Beto hesitated for a second, then said, “Yes, sometimes he gave me bread. His name is Skinny.” Ricardo got out of the car and signaled to the man. He approached walking slowly, shuffling his feet. When he saw Beto, he smiled toothlessly. “Hey, look, that’s not my rooster,” he said as if he really knew him. Beto got out of the car, also a little nervous. The skinny guy reached out and patted him on the back. “Did you run away or were you adopted?” Ricardo joined in the conversation. “I just want to know if this kid stole when he was around here.”
The skinny guy let out a harsh laugh. No stealing. Well, no. Like others. The kid did what he had to do. He sold gum, washed windows. Sometimes he got into trucks to sing, even though he didn’t sing, but no stealing. Ricardo looked at him intently, and what ugly things he had to do. The skinny guy got serious. He turned to look at Beto, who immediately tensed up. Look, it’s not my problem, saying things that don’t concern me, but he’s lived through tough things, really tough things. Do you think a kid his age can survive alone without getting his hands dirty? Sometimes he had to run, sometimes lie, but I never saw him hurt anyone. Ricardo didn’t say anything, just nodded, gave the man a bill, and went with Beto to the car. A lump in his throat. Later, when Beto was already in bed, Marcela came in with a glass of water, sat down next to him, and stroked his hair. Everything was fine. He leaned in without looking at her. Did you fight with Ricardo? No. So what happened? Beto swallowed. Then he said in a low voice. We went downtown He took me to a man who knew me He asked him things I don’t think he trusted me Marcela sighed Ricardo is scared He’s broken inside It’s not your fault And you do trust me She looked him in the eyes Yes Even though you don’t know everything about me Yes because what I do know is enough for me Beto couldn’t stop his eyes from getting wet but he dried them quickly without making a sound That night
while Ricardo was eating dinner alone in the kitchen Marcela sat in front of him with a serious face Don’t do that again What to take to the street like a criminal He trusted us Ricardo Don’t break that I just wanted to know the truth And the truth is he has a hard past We already knew that You didn’t need to check it like it was an investigation Ricardo stayed silent I didn’t know how to answer The next day Ricardo entered Beto’s room early The boy was awake sitting on the bed “Hey” he said without raising his voice
Sorry about yesterday Beto didn’t say anything I didn’t mean to make you feel bad I just needed to know more about you It’s okay Can you tell me something what why don’t You told me before, Beto looked at him without getting angry, but with his eyes wide open. Because I thought that if I told you, you wouldn’t want me here anymore. Ricardo felt a squeeze on his chest. He sat on the edge of the bed. Look, I don’t know how to handle this. I’m not good with emotions, or with children, or with pain. But if you’re going to be here, you have to be honest. It’s okay. And I’m going to try to trust.
More. Thank you. They stayed for a moment.

or in silence Then Beto asked “Do you still think I stole the watch?” Ricardo froze, not knowing what to answer. In the end he just said, “No, not anymore.” But deep down, that thorn was still there. Marcela’s dark circles under her eyes grew more pronounced with each passing day. Although she tried to get up as always, she no longer had the same strength. It showed in her arms, in the way she held onto the railing when going down the stairs or in how she took deep breaths before walking from one room to another. The cancer was gaining ground, and even though she didn’t say it, Ricardo and Beto already knew it. That Friday she woke up in pain. Her stomach hurt, her back ached all the way to the bone. She couldn’t even get up on her own. Ricardo called the doctor immediately. While they waited, Beto stood in the doorway of the room, not knowing what to do. He saw her in bed with a sweaty forehead and her lips pressed together. He wanted to get closer but didn’t dare. “Go have breakfast, Beto,” Ricardo told him in a low voice. “It’s going to be okay.” “Yes, it’s just a blues.” But Ricardo’s face didn’t say the same. When the doctor arrived, he walked in quickly. He already knew the situation. He checked her oxygen, her blood pressure, her temperature. He asked a few questions, checked her medications and her belt. Then, finally, he looked at Ricardo with that expression that doesn’t need many words. You have to go to the hospital. Now, Marcela tried to protest. “I’m fine, it’s just a little pain,” the doctor replied. “No, ma’am.” “You’re not okay.” Ricardo went out into the hallway and called the ambulance. Beto was still in the kitchen, staring at his plate without touching it. Marta, as always, was there.
although in 1900, instead of comforting her or saying anything helpful, she limited herself to commenting in a low voice. That was already coming. What did Beto say, frowning? The boy doesn’t eat anything. But Beto stood up and ran up the stairs. When he got to the room, Marcela was already being taken down on a stretcher. She saw him from the hallway and stretched out a weak hand, and Beto took it without hesitation. “I’m going to be okay,” she said with a forced smile. “Take care of the plants for me.” “Yes.” Beto nodded. He didn’t want to let go of her, but the paramedics were already loading her into the ambulance. Ricardo went with her without looking back. He just said, “Stay here, don’t go out. I’ll be back as soon as I can.” The house fell silent. Beto spent the rest of the day sitting on the couch, not knowing what to do. He turned on the TV but didn’t hear it. He walked through the garden and watered the plants like Marcela asked. He sat on the bench and stared at the sky. He had no one to talk to, he didn’t feel part of the house or any place. Marta came in and out but didn’t say anything to him, not a word of comfort. She just did what she always did, as if everything was normal. At some point, Beto dared to ask him, “Do you think he’s going to be okay?” Marta looked at him with a face she couldn’t quite read. I don’t know. There are things that don’t depend on us. And she left, leaving him with more doubts. At night, Ricardo called from the hospital. Marta answered and then handed the phone to Beto. Hello, Beto. How are you? Is she stable? She’s under observation. She’s going to stay here for a few days, but she’s calm. Can I talk to her? She’s asleep, but you can see her tomorrow. I’ll pick you up early. She’s okay. Did you eat a little? Rest. I’ll let you know what time I’ll be by tomorrow. Yes. They hung up. Beto held the phone in his hand for a few seconds, then went up to his room, but he couldn’t sleep. He started thinking about everything that had happened since he got there. Marcela, how she spoke to him, how she looked at him. No one had ever taken care of him like that. It wasn’t just that she gave him food or clothes, it was the way she made him feel like he mattered. The next morning, Ricardo picked him up early. They were silent. When they got to the hospital, they walked down long hallways until they reached a white room with machines, tubes, and a large window. There was Marcela with her hair. Her skin was paler than ever, but she smiled as soon as she saw him enter. “Hello, my boy,” she said in a low voice. Beto ran to her side and took her hand. He didn’t say anything, his eyes just filled with tears. “Don’t cry, I’m here.” “I don’t want him to die.” “I’m not going to die,” she replied. “I still have a lot of things to do.” Ricardo stood in the doorway.
Something in his chest broke every time he saw them together. It was a mixture of pain, love, and fear. Afraid that the image would end. That the same day, while they were in the room, a young doctor came in with some papers. He greeted them and explained that they were going to start a new, experimental treatment that could help stop the disease. He didn’t guarantee anything, but it was an option. Ricardo accepted immediately. Marcela suggested it, even though it was clear that his body wasn’t responding the same anymore. In the afternoon, they returned home. Beto went into his room without saying much. At night, he approached the study where Ricardo was working on the computer. “Can I come in, of course?” “Are you okay, more or less?” “Are you scared?” Ricardo looked at him and His eyes watered even though he didn’t show it Yes me too They stayed cold

sides a moment Thank you for letting me see her said Beto She wanted to see you She says you give her strength Beto lowered his gaze I want her to stay, to be okay Me too Ricardo turned off the computer and stood up We’re going to do everything possible That night the house fell silent again But now it was a different silence It wasn’t one of anger or suspicion It was one filled with worry like when you walk down a dark road hoping that at the end there will be at least a ray of light On Monday afternoon after visiting Marcela in the hospital Ricardo and Beto returned home with their heads full of spin Everything seemed calm but there was something in the atmosphere that didn’t feel the same as if the house was tense like when it’s going to rain hard but not a drop has fallen yet Beto went straight to his room He didn’t feel like talking he turned on the TV but didn’t watch it His mind was on Marcela Although the doctors had said that the treatment was starting well he kept thinking that something could go wrong Ugly images appeared in his head memories that he didn’t even know where they came from of people who left and never came back Ricardo stayed in the living room for a while checking his cell phone answering emails but not paying much attention Yomar found it hard to concentrate Suddenly he remembered something He needed to get some documents out of a safe that was in his office He got up there and when he opened the door he froze The safe was open He frowned He always closed it Always He bent down He checked the inside Some papers were out of place One of the envelopes with money was disorganized Nothing was missing at first glance but it was noticeable that someone had put their hand in He left immediately and went to the kitchen where Marta was cleaning Are you coming into my office of course not The safe was open Well I don’t even have the key Ask the kid Maybe he does Ricardo stared at her Beto doesn’t even know what a safe is Marta shrugged while cleaning the stove Oh well then it was a ghost But it wasn’t me Ricardo didn’t say anything He went up to his office He checked everything again and this time he did notice that three 500 bills were missing No I could believe it. Beto was left alone at home with Marta. She ignored him as always, but this time she went further. As she passed by the living room, she looked him up and down and said, “Do you think the lady is going to come back?” Beto remained silent I say no And when that happens, let’s see how long the little theater lasts What little theater, that of a child Well, you don’t belong here I don’t know how much they felt sorry for you but the 20th will fall on you When the lady is gone all this will be over Beto clenched his fists He swallowed his anger He wasn’t going to cry in front of her I didn’t hurt anyone Of course And I am the Virgin You’re not fooling me Marta left as if nothing had happened But the words lingered Beto didn’t know what to do He thought about telling Ricardo but then he remembered how he had reacted the last time He didn’t want him to doubt him again That same afternoon while Marta was making the beds Beto decided to go up to Ricardo’s room Not to do anything bad he just wanted to make sure she wasn’t doing something to him He felt strange as if something was warning him that something uglier than they imagined was happening He opened the door slowly The room was empty He walked to the desk Everything looked normal Then he heard footsteps and hid behind the door and waited It was Marta She walked right in as if nothing had happened She went to the piece of furniture where the safe was She took something out of her apron and put it behind it Then she opened a drawer she took out a piece of paper looked at it and put it back She left there quickly without noticing that Beto was watching her He stood still for several minutes Then he ran out to his room His heart was beating fast What was that woman doing Why did she come into the room as if it were hers What was she hiding That same day when Ricardo came back from the hospital Beto wanted to talk to him but just at that moment Marta was in the living room She looked at him with that warning face a clear look as if to say “If you say something it will go wrong for you.” Ricardo asked him how he was and Beto just said “Fine everything calm down”. But inside he wasn’t calm at all. At night, while he was pretending to sleep, he heard footsteps in the hallway. He peeked out from the half-open door. It was Marta again. This time she had her cell phone pressed to her ear, speaking in a low voice. Beto didn’t hear everything, but he did manage to hear this. Yes, everything is ready. The old man hasn’t even noticed. No, the child.
I’m not going to touch him, but if he gets in the way, we’ll see what to do. He stopped. He swallowed. He felt a cold on his back. He wanted to leave, but his legs wouldn’t move. The next day, the first thing he did was go see Marcela. He was more stable now, with a little more color in his face. Ricardo let him into the room alone. What’s wrong, my child? He asked her, noticing her expression. Nothing, he just wanted to see her. Are you okay, yes? But her face said something else. Are you sure nothing’s wrong? Beto hesitated. He looked into her eyes, going to and from.tell her everything but he stopped Something inside him told him it wasn’t time yet that he had to have proof If he talked like that no one would believe him It had happened before I want you to come back you already said On the other hand the house isn’t the same without you I want to come back too but I need a little more time Beto squeezed his hand That day he understood that it wasn’t enough to survive that sometimes when you find a place you feel love you have to take care of it and if someone wanted to destroy it you couldn’t stay silent for That always Tuesday morning the sky was clearer It wasn’t cold or hot just that strange climate that doesn’t bother but doesn’t encourage either In the house everything was still as if on pause Ricardo had been at the hospital since early and Marta kept busy with the chores but without saying more than necessary It seemed that she had decided to pretend that everything was normal but Beto knew better He no longer trusted her or that silence After breakfast he sat on the couch with a notebook and a pencil he began to draw not because he was good but because he needed to distract himself He drew the house a tree a dog that didn’t exist and accidentally Marcela’s face When he realized it he stopped and stared at her He looked similar even with his braid He put away his notebook put on his sweatshirt and waited He knew that that day he had to go back to the hospital Ricardo had said he would pick him up after noon He felt nervous as if something big was going to happen When they arrived at the hospital Ricardo went to talk to the doctor and Beto entered the room alone Marcela was awake looking out the window she was wearing a white coat and her face was paler than other days but when he saw him come in he smiled immediately “There’s my favorite visitor.” “Hello” he said smiling too although with a lump in his throat He approached the bed and sat in the usual chair Marcela stretched out her hand and he took it without hesitation “How are you?” Beto asked “I feel a little less bad today You’re fine It’s just that I miss home when you’re not here And how are the plants doing? The ones near the tree have bloomed? I watered them every day They’re doing great You promised to take care of them and you’re doing it Yes They were silent for a few seconds but it was a nice silence not uncomfortable Beto looked at her and felt like something inside him was tightening He didn’t know how to explain it he only knew that with her he felt very safe as if he were where he should be “Can I tell you something” he suddenly blurted out “Of course tell me” Sometimes I wish you were my mom Marcela fell silent not out of surprise but because those words hit her straight to the heart Her eyes filled with tears and her mouth trembled a little Why do you say that because I never had one or I don’t remember And with you I feel that I don’t know how to explain it Marcela pressed her hand It was hard for her to speak I feel something with you too Beto You’re not my son but there are days when I close my eyes and I feel like I could have had you at another time in life as if fate had taken a long time But at He brought you finally, he laughed softly, his eyes also full. So if he loves me so much, as if you were mine, Beto stood up and hugged her carefully, afraid of hurting her. She wrapped her thin arms around him as best she could and stroked his hair. “You’re a brave boy,” he whispered in her ear. “And you’re not alone.” “Nor are you.” When they separated, she took a deep breath.
Do you know what I was doing before you arrived? What? Writing you a letter for me. Yes, I want you to have it for when I’m not with you. Don’t say that. It’s not out of sadness, it’s because I want to leave you things. Good words to accompany you no matter what. Beto looked at her, unable to speak. She extended her hand and handed him a folded envelope with her name written in shaky handwriting. He took it carefully, as if it were made of glass. “I can open it whenever you want, but if you want to save it for a day when you’re sad, that’s fine too.”
Thank you. After that, they talked about other things about Emiliano, about the food he liked the most, and at one point, Marcela almost fell on her face. pool with his clothes on Beto laughed out loud She did too For a while the hospital stopped feeling like a hospital Ricardo returned to the room as evening fell He stopped at the door when he saw them together He heard part of the conversation and didn’t want to interrupt Not out of prudence but because something told him something important was happening there something that shouldn’t be broken by his presence That night back home Beto went straight to his room, the door closed, sat down on the bed and took out the letter He held it in his hands for several minutes without opening it He looked at it as if it were speaking to him as if he knew that inside that envelope was something that could change his heart but he didn’t open it Not yet He put it under his pillow and went to bed For the first time in days he fell asleep without fear because he no longer felt alone because that sick woman, tired and strong at the same time, had given him something he had never had a piece of love that was only for him Marta no longer concealed anythingEver since she saw Marcela and Beto hug each other in the hospital, something got stuck in her chest. And it wasn’t sadness, it was anger. Anger that didn’t come from love, but from the ego of feeling like she was in control of something she believed was hers. She had been in that house for years, years watching Emiliano grow up, serving food, knowing every corner, the secrets that no one spoke out loud. She felt part of that family even if they never said it. In her mind, she was closer to Ricardo and Marcela than many people of blood. That’s why the idea of ​​a street kid coming to occupy a space that wasn’t hers poisoned her inside. That afternoon, while Beto was watering the plants in the garden, Marta took out her cell phone, walked to the laundry room, went into the most hidden part and dialed a number she had saved with the name Toño. “What’s up, auntie?” the voice on the other end answered, half asleep. “It’s time for you to come. I need you to do what we talked about. Are you sure now, more than ever? But do it well, quietly. I don’t want anything to splash me. Okay, where do we meet here tomorrow at noon? You come in
through the back gate like always. If I’m not waiting. Done.” She hung up. She put the cell phone in her apron and returned to the kitchen as if nothing had happened. Those types of calls were nothing new to her. Toño was her nephew, son of a sister who had gotten lost in drugs and never returned. Since he was little, the boy got into fights, robberies, fights, dirty things, but Marta always protected him. She said he had a strong character. The truth is, he was a criminal, one of those who doesn’t need much to cause trouble. The next day, Beto woke up with a strange feeling. Something in the house didn’t feel the same. He put on his sneakers and went down to breakfast. Ricardo had already gone to the hospital like every morning. Marta was in the kitchen chopping fruit with a smile that didn’t reach her eyes. “Do you want breakfast?” he asked kindly, but forced Yes, thank you He served her a bowl of cereal with milk and placed it in front of Amada But there was something cold in her eyes Beto ate in silence He knew something wasn’t right but he didn’t know what When he finished he went to the garden He stayed playing with a ball for a while but he kept glancing sideways at the house That’s when he heard a strange sound like a sharp blow in the back He walked slowly towards the side hallway When he peeked out he saw a hooded guy coming in through the back gate He immediately ducked and hid behind a bush The guy moved confidently He didn’t look like someone entering for the first time He was going straight to the laundry room Beto didn’t recognize him immediately but the way he walked reminded him of someone he followed him silently, close to the wall Then he heard a low but clear voice You’re here That’s good Look in that box is what I told you You’re taking it in two parts And be careful with the boy I don’t want any trouble Calm down Aunt I know how to do things Beto froze His heart was beating fast Aunt said aunt He peeked carefully and saw their backs. It was her. Marta was giving something to the guy who was putting things in a black backpack. They were papers, bills, envelopes. He couldn’t really see what it was, but nothing legal looked right. He backed away quietly, ran through the garden, and went up to his room without being seen. He closed the door and stayed panting with his back against the wall. He didn’t know what to do. He couldn’t call Ricardo. He didn’t have his number, and if he said anything to him when he got back, he certainly wouldn’t believe him. He had already doubted him once before. He didn’t sleep that night. He lay awake still thinking. What if he told Marcela everything when she was in the hospital? Maybe she would believe him, but he was also afraid of getting her into trouble. He wasn’t strong enough yet. The next day was just as tense. Marta acted as if nothing had happened. She even offered him sweet bread in the afternoon. Beto turned him down. He didn’t even want to talk to her. The only thing he was waiting for was the time Ricardo would take him to the hospital. When they finally arrived, Beto waited until he was alone with Marcela. She was in a better mood, more energetic, and he told her. that she had slept well, that the doctor had told her her levels were stable. And you asked her, “What’s on that face?” If I tell her something, will she always believe me? ” Beto hesitated but finally got the courage I heard Marta She was with a man He told her “You come in through the back gate like always.” And he said to her “Aunt, they were taking things out of a backpack.” Marcela frowned Are you sure I saw it And they took something I don’t know what it was but it was envelopes with papers bills Marcela started thinking Did you tell Ricardo wasn’t I scared He didn’t believe me once He’s fine I’ll take care of it but I need you not to say anything else Okay Yes And if you see something weirder you tell me first Do you believe me Of course I believe you Beto felt relieved He pressed his hand That woman was still his refuge That night Marcela asked a nurse to lend her a phone and dialed Ricardo Is everything okay he asked I need you to listen to me carefully Just listen Don’t interrupt Okay Beto told me something you need to know and this time I believeBecause I do believe him. Ricardo hung up the phone and stood still in the hospital room with his head in a mess. Marcela had just told him that Beto had seen Marta in something shady, that he had heard strange things, and that he had even mentioned a guy who called her
“Auntie.” At first he wanted to doubt He wanted to think that Beto had misinterpreted something but Marcela’s voice was so firm so sure that something inside him changed This time he didn’t dare ignore her He returned home without warning It was almost 7 in the evening and the sun was already setting He opened the door quietly and the first thing he noticed was that there was no music or television on Everything was too quiet He walked towards the back hallway where the service door was and there he saw her Marta was with her back turned going through some papers on the laundry table She had an open backpack next to her just like the one Beto described When he heard footsteps he turned around quickly but it was too late What are you doing Ricardo asked her with a coldness he didn’t use often Marta tried to remain calm I’m cleaning nothing These papers were lying here since yesterday and the backpack is mine I brought my lunch Ricardo came over and opened the backpack without asking permission Inside there was no food there were envelopes with house documents copies of deeds accounts old checks and an envelope with several new bills Also this It’s your lunch Marta remained silent She no longer knew what to say She tried to put on a face of I don’t know what’s going on but Ricardo was no fool Who is Toño she gulped My nephew And why does he sneak into my house He doesn’t sneak in He only comes to see me from time to time through the back door without warning and with empty backpacks that always leave full Marta said nothing Ricardo looked at her with a mixture of disappointment and anger It hurt more for the years than for what was stolen For the broken trust of realizing that someone who showed part of their home was playing under the table You’re fired Marta And not only that I’m going to report you What after everything I did for you Precisely for that because we trusted you with everything And look how you paid She started screaming and crying saying that he didn’t know anything that they would always do to her They had treated her like any other employee but Ricardo wasn’t listening anymore he only went to his phone and called the police As they arrived she went up to Beto’s room She found him sitting on the bed drawing again Do you have a minute yes thank you for what You told me You were right and I didn’t believe you Beto looked at him with eyes between scared and calm What’s going to happen I called the police Marta won’t be here anymore She stole valuables and gave them to her nephew I have proof Beto were just there Are you okay yes just sad Why because I thought that lady was good and it turns out she wasn’t The same thing happened to me before With another person who took care of me everything was fine and suddenly it changed And again I thought it was my fault Ricardo sat next to him It’s not your fault It wasn’t before and it’s not now There are people who disappoint you and no matter how much time they spend with you sometimes you never really know them And if it happens to me again then you start over But not alone this time This time you have Marcela and you have me Beto looked at him in surprise That was 1906 The first time Ricardo told him something like that so directly he believed him Downstairs the police arrived They took Marta away without a fuss She tried to complain but the officers already knew what to do Toño wasn’t there but they were going to give him Ricardo the documents and the names Everything was clear The next day Beto accompanied Ricardo to the hospital As soon as he saw Marcela he told him the news She’s gone Who Marta What I said was true Marcela sounded tender to her I know I told you I trusted you Ricardo came in a few minutes later and told her the same thing All without hiding anything Marcela was silent for a while then took a deep breath It’s hard But it’s good that it was discovered We can’t have people like that around anymore How do you feel a little more tired than yesterday but calm Ricardo looked at her and for the first time in many days I felt that something was slowly settling as if the world after so much shaking was finding a way to calm down But that was just the beginning because Beto’s past still had one last card up his sleeve one that was going to shake everything The house felt empty Although Marta was no longer there and everyone knew it was for the best something strange remained floating in the air like when you clean something that smells bad but the smell takes a while to go away Ricardo tried to act normal he went to the hospital he attended to pending matters he tried to keep up the pace he had before but for Inside he still doubted Not about Marta, not about Marcela He doubted Beto Even though the boy had told him the truth, even though Marcela insisted that he trust him, there was a part of him that couldn’t let go of the idea that he was hiding something. Maybe it was the fear of getting attached or maybe it was the habit of not trusting anyone since Emiliano left. One afternoon Ricardo arrived earlier than usual. He wanted toto rest for a while, but when he entered his study, he stood still. His favorite clock, an antique one he had inherited from his father, was no longer where it always was. No
It was just any clock. He cared for it as if it were gold, even though it wasn’t even worth that much. What hurt him was the memory. He walked all over the house looking for it. He opened drawers, checked tables, went to the bathroom, to the guest room. Nothing. He went down to the garden in case it had fallen. Nothing. And once again, like so many other times, his mind went straight to Beto. He went upstairs, his heart racing, knocked on the child’s bedroom door. Nothing. He walked in without waiting for a reply. There was Beto lying with his headphones on. He hadn’t even noticed he’d entered. Have you seen an old clock?
Ricardo asked one The one who had on my desk Beto took off his headphones What quick coffee with a leather strap No I haven’t grabbed anything Are you sure I do I swear Can I check you Beto was speechless He looked at him with his eyes wide open He had been through this before and it hurt just the same I don’t have anything of his Check if you want Ricardo didn’t say anything else He began to look through his drawers the backpack the folded clothes Nothing But something inside him no longer listened to reason The watch was not there and that was enough to distrust Where did you put it I didn’t grab it It’s always the same
Everything disappears When you’re here Beto got out of bed I didn’t steal anything Then explain to me why every time something is missing you’re near Because I live here It’s not my fault that you see me as a thief Ricardo gritted his teeth He was furious hurt confused He didn’t know if he was screaming for the watch for Emiliano or for everything he had stuck Do you know what I can’t go on like this If I don’t trust you there’s no point in you still being here Beto felt that the floor was opening up for him He’s going to run away I just need you to go away for a while until this is cleared up
And where do I go anywhere You’ve already lived on the streets I’m sure you know how to get by Those words were like a direct blow to the chest Beto didn’t answer he just looked down he went to get his backpack and put in what little he had He left the room without looking back went down the stairs with his heart broken Before going out the door he turned around once more Marcela won’t forgive him for this And he left Ricardo stayed on the stairs without moving He didn’t know if what he had just done was the right thing He only knew that he was tired of not being able to trust that he
felt lost that his head was a mess That night the house was emptier than ever Beto walked aimlessly through the streets He passed avenues parks shops and ended up in the same neighborhood where he had slept so many times before He sat down on a bench with his backpack at his feet and a lost look He had nowhere to go He was no longer the same boy as before This time his stomach didn’t hurt from hunger It hurt something worse the disappointment On the street, no one asked your name, no one looked at you twice, you were just another one among so many. He tried to sleep but he couldn’t. He tossed and turned on the bench, covering himself with his sweatshirt, remembering every moment in the house, the first time he slept in a bed. Breakfast with bread and milk, Marcela’s hug, Ricardo’s laugh when he dropped the water jug in the kitchen. All that was gone. Marcela made the change the next day. When Ricardo arrived alone without Beto, all he had to do was see his face to understand that something was wrong. Where is he? He’s gone. How come he’s gone? It happened again. Dad’s watch is missing, and he was the only one who was there. Marcela closed her eyes. And you decided to blame him again. Without proof, I have no way of trusting. No, what you don’t have is the courage to accept that the child was already part of us, and you threw him out like garbage. I don’t know who he is. I don’t know what he’s capable of, but I do. And you knew it too, it’s just that you were scared. Ricardo didn’t say anything. The guilt was already killing him inside. Marcela settled into bed with an effort. She took a breath. I’ll tell you. ask for a favor Not for him or for me, for you Look for him, bring him back because if not, you’ll regret it all your life Ricardo didn’t respond, only supporting himself with his eyes full of rage. That night Beto slept in an abandoned warehouse next to some old cardboard boxes. He was coughing hard, his throat was burning, he had a fever. But he didn’t want to go to any hospital, he didn’t want to see anyone. He closed his eyes, squeezing Marcela’s letter in his hands. He hadn’t opened it yet, but that night, for the first time, his fingers trembled with desire because maybe those words were the only thing that still made him feel part of something. Ricardo didn’t sleep that half-night. He paced back and forth around the house as if he was looking for something, but in reality, what he was looking for was peace. His stomach felt churning, as if he had eaten glass. He couldn’t stop thinking about Beto’s face when he kicked him out. The way he yelled at him that he hadn’t stolen anything, how firmly he said it. The anger mixed with sadness. And then what Marcela said to him. That phrase stuck in his head. You’re leaving. to regret all his life At dawn he went straight to his study He sat in front of the computer, opened the security cameras of the house and began to reviewar the recordings He hadn’t thought about that before, maybe because deep down he didn’t want to discover something that would hurt him anymore, but there was no going back. He played the clips one by one. From M, where the day the clock disappeared, he saw Beto in the hallway, Marta coming in to clean, himself leaving in a hurry. He fast-forwarded the video and there it was. The image, frozen Toño. The same guy who had come through the back gate before was entering the studio through the garden door. He moved quickly straight to the desk. He checked a drawer, took something out, and yelled at it. Full of rage, he slammed the desk. He yelled. He didn’t know whether to cry or break something. He felt like an idiot, a coward, a traitor. That same day, he went to the police station. He handed over the video, the photos, and Marta and Toño’s information. All that was missing now was for them to find him. The police told him that his nephew already had a criminal record. They had been looking for him for days for another robbery at an electronics store. It was only a matter of time. He left there with his head in pieces, got into his car, and He stood there for a while, staring motionless. Suddenly he thought of Marcela. He had to tell her, he had to tell her everything. He arrived. When he entered the room at the hospital without saying a word, she looked at him immediately. And well, Ricardo lowered his head. Beto didn’t steal the watch. It was Toño. He’s in the videos. Marcela closed her eyes, not because she was surprised, but because of the anger that rose inside her. Where is the child? I don’t know. How come you don’t know? He’s gone. I have no idea where. Have you looked for him yet? No, not yet. Not yet. She repeated, her voice colder than ever. And what are you waiting for, Ricardo? For someone to hurt him? That he’s lost forever? He didn’t know what to say. He just left the room aimlessly, his face red with shame. That same afternoon he went downtown. He walked through the streets where they had seen him before. He asked the homeless people, the vendors, the skinny one. Nobody had seen him. The city was enormous. Beto could be on any corner, on any bench, in any shadow. He passed again.
by the abandoned warehouse where many street children slept. The place stank of urine, dampness, in the back, among cardboard and cans, he saw a A familiar silhouette approached carefully. It was Beto. He was lying on the floor with his backpack as a pillow, covered with a dirty blanket. He was coughing hard. His face was pale and his lips were dry. He didn’t open his eyes when Ricardo approached. Beto, the boy, barely moved. He was burning with fever. Ricardo picked him up without thinking. He carried him as if he were his own son. His arms were shaking, but he didn’t let go. He carried him to the car. While driving, he dialed the hospital. Prepare a bed for me. It’s urgent. The boy is sick. They arrived in minutes. They put him on a stretcher. The doctor recognized him instantly. Marcela had mentioned it many times, he has a serious infection, probably pneumonia. How long has he been like this, I don’t know. I kicked him out of the house two days ago. The doctor looked at him reproachfully because he arrived just in time. If he had stayed one more night on the street, he wouldn’t have counted. Ricardo sat in the waiting room with his hands on his head. He didn’t forgive himself for anything. It was all his fault. The doubt, the accusation, the abandonment. He stayed there for hours without moving until a nurse told him he could come see him. Beto was asleep, connected to an IV with an oxygen mask. He looked smaller, more fragile. Ricardo approached and took his hand. Forgive me, Beto. Please forgive me. I was wrong. I was an idiot. The boy didn’t wake up, but there was no fear on his face. He was at peace, as if he knew that finally, someone was going to really take care of him. The clock read 5 in the morning when Ricardo suddenly opened his eyes, as if someone had shouted in his ear. He was lying in one of the hospital’s hard chairs, his back aching and his head spinning. The last time he saw Beto’s room, the boy was still asleep, with an IV in his arm and the oxygen mask covering almost his entire face. They had stabilized him, but the doctor never stopped looking serious. “It’s going to be a difficult recovery,” he told him the night before. We don’t know how long he was exposed to the cold and the humidity, much less if he ate anything in the last few days. We’re going to do everything possible. Ricardo couldn’t sleep after that. He sat up all night staring at the ceiling, going over everything in his head, as if he could rewind the moment he kicked him out. and change history But it couldn’t be done, it was already done As soon as the first ray of sunlight came out, he stopped as a resource He couldn’t stay there without doing anything He left the hospital, got in his car and started it He had a clear objective: to find Toño He didn’t know why, but he felt he needed to confront him, to turn him in, to vent his anger on him So that at least part of all this would have consequences It wasn’t justice, it was something more personal He went straight to the area where the police told him he used to hang out Near Tepito, on some narrow streets where the Fayuca stalls barely let cars through, he asked someone to comeEmergency guards watched two boys smoking on the corner Toño the lazy one who steals cell phones Yes, you’ve seen him We saw him like three days ago but he left They were looking for him because of a mess with some cops They say he broke up
Paistacalco Ricardo continued his route called the detective who had the case asked him for more information sent him the license plate of the motorcycle that appeared in the camera video They told him they were looking for him and that as soon as they knew something they would let him know Meanwhile, he continued driving without stopping He entered neighborhoods he had never set foot in areas that smelled of urine and filth He walked without fear He didn’t care about anything anymore The only thing he wanted was something to do anything to help clean up what he had done Hours passed At 2 in the afternoon the detective
I already called him, we have located him He is in an abandoned building on Doctores He entered recently He is with two other guys We don’t know if he is armed so let’s be careful If you want to come, come But don’t intervene Ricardo drove like crazy He arrived at the spot just as the patrol car was entering from the other street. He got out of the car with his heart pounding. From the corner, he saw the officers enter the building. 5 minutes later, they came out with Toño handcuffed, yelling obscenities. I have nothing, dude. Let me go, I didn’t do anything, you fucking pigs. Ricardo approached, but the police stopped him. Stay back, sir. Toño saw him and smiled mockingly. You’re done, old man. I stole your face and you blamed the kid. Ricardo felt his face burning, but he didn’t say anything. He didn’t answer, he just looked at him with a mixture of disgust and anger. That smile would soon be erased. The police put him in the patrol car. Ricardo stood there watching him walk away. It wasn’t a triumph. He didn’t feel like he had won anything. He just wanted to get back to Beto, be able to tell him straight out that he was sorry, that he had made a mistake, that this time he was going to fight for him. He returned to the hospital at full speed, ran up to the room, entered and saw him awake for the first time since they found him. He was still awake, but weak, his eyes open. “Hello,” Beto said with belts low voice Ricardo approached quickly Hello how are you feeling tired but better There was a brief uncomfortable silence dense He already told Marcela Yes I spoke to her this morning She got angry no well yes but she also understood What she told me was to bring you back And that’s what I did Beto lowered his gaze Why didn’t you believe me Ricardo sat next to the bed Because I’m an idiot Because fear won because I still have wounds that haven’t healed But that’s no excuse I made a big mistake I failed you and there’s no way to justify it They already found the other one Yes he’s under arrest We have proof No one will ever doubt you again Beto closed his eyes for a second then opened them again slowly Is he going to run me away again not the opposite This time if you allow me I want you to go back to your room to your house to your life Beto didn’t say anything just moving forward with his head It was a small gesture but enough for Ricardo to release the air that had been stuck in his chest for days “Thank you” he said almost whispering “Thank you for coming back.” Ricardo came closer and grabbed his hand. This time it wasn’t shaking. Beto looked at him with half-closed eyes. “Can I ask you for something?” “Whatever you want When I’m better I can see Emiliano’s room again Ricardo swallowed Of course as many times as you want They stayed in silence for a while This time it wasn’t an awkward silence it was one of those that heals Beto took almost a week to fully recover It was a week of coughing low fever vomiting and long nights with nurses coming in and out of the room But it was also a week of something new Company He wasn’t alone not a day Ricardo didn’t leave his side and Marcela was still there even though she was hospitalized she called daily to ask how he was if he had eaten yet if he was behaving well The first time Beto sat up in bed without help Ricardo almost cried with emotion He brought him sweet bread and juice as if it were a luxurious dinner and for Beto it was He ate slowly with a small smile as if he still found it hard to believe that now someone was serving him that someone was there just to take care of him One afternoon when they had already taken off his mask he stared out the hospital window and said to Ricardo I thought I was going to die and I thought I wasn’t going to see you anymore to see again seeing he didn’t say anything else but the way she looked at him said it all It was that mixture of surprise relief and affection that doesn’t need to be explained Something between them had already changed It was noticeable On the third day Marcela asked for a wheelchair and went down to Beto’s room Her face was more lively her eyes were brighter Although she still looked weak her energy was different When the boy came in he jumped on her and hugged her tightly “I missed you” he said with his voice buried in her shoulder I dreamed of you more every night They stayed hugging each other for a long time Ricardo they watched them from a corner in silence He didn’t need to get in He knew that
that moment was only hisAfter the hug Marcela took something out of her bag The letter Have you already read it Beto shook his head I still haven’t dared Do you want me to read it to you? The boy hesitated for a second then recommending Ricardo came closer and the three of them sat together like a family Marcela carefully opened the envelope took out the paper unfolded it and began to read in a soft voice Beto if you’re reading this it’s because you needed a reason to continue I don’t know if it will be with you open this letter but I want you to know that you were an unexpected gift You arrived when everything felt lost You gave me back my laughter you gave me strength You’re not my son by blood but you’re my child It doesn’t matter if you come from the street or from heaven you are already part of this house and you’ll always have a place here no matter what happens I love you very much Marcela When Beto finished his cheeks were already soaked Marcela too And Ricardo although he didn’t cry pressed his lips tightly No one spoke for a while all you could hear was the machine in the dream and the cars on the street That was the day they stopped acting like strangers From that moment on, things really changed.
A week later, Beto returned home. He climbed the stairs as if they were new. He stopped in front of Emiliano’s room. He looked at Ricardo, who was behind him, and asked, without speaking. Ricardo, noticing, Beto, pushed the door. Everything was the same. The toys, the bed, the drawings on the wall. He walked to the desk, touched a notebook, and sat on the edge of the bed. “What was he like?” he asked. “Brave, curious.” He had the most contagious laugh in the world. He only got angry when they wouldn’t let him watch cartoons. Beto smiled. “Do you think he would have liked you?”
With me I’m safe That room didn’t hurt so much It was no longer a place frozen in time Now it had another energy It was as if Emiliano and Beto had crossed paths without knowing each other Marcela went up later and found them there talking She sat next to them and said “I don’t want that room to close anymore I want it to be filled with life, with laughter, books, jokes, scoldings if necessary Ricardo looked at her surprised What are you saying I don’t want this house to be a museum of memories I want us to live the following days again Beto began
to go to school with fear, lazily sometimes but he went Marcela helped him with his homework even if he got tired Ricardo took him in the mornings and when he could what was expected at the exit was enough The day they broke the news that Toño had been linked to Proceso nobody in the house celebrated There were no shouts of victory or faces of I told you so It was something quiet like everything that had hurt so much In silence locked away Ricardo received the call from the lawyer He listened to everything he had to hear and hung up without saying much Toño went He was in prison not only for what he did at home but for other charges he already had. They were going to take him to a prison in the north and he didn’t have much hope of getting out soon. According to the lawyer, it was likely that the sentence would be long. Ricardo went down to the dining room where Beto was doing his homework. He looked at him for a while without interrupting. Beto was concentrating, biting his pencil as if his life was going to depend on a sum. Noticing the look, he looked up. Everything’s fine. Ricardo, inhaling. They’ve already locked him up. Atoño. Yes. And Marta too. Beto lowered his eyes. He didn’t say anything. Are you okay with that? Ricardo asked. I don’t know. I’m glad, but I also don’t know. He was the first person who gave me a roof over his head. He treated me badly, but he gave me food when no one else would. Ricardo sat down in front of him. There are people who give you something but charge you double.
afterwards. That’s not help, it’s control. And he won’t get out soon. And when he gets out, he won’t be able to get close to us. He’s going to tell Marcela. Yes. As soon as he gets to the hospital, Beto went back to his notebook. His head was full, but he continued writing as if the accounts would help him organize what felt Marcela was already looking much better The doctors said the experimental treatment was giving good results It wasn’t a cure but it was a pause, an opportunity And that was already a lot That same day Ricardo arrived with flowers and the news Toño and Marta are now behind bars Yes She didn’t want to testify but the videos spoke for themselves She is accused of breach of trust, theft, and concealment Marcela listened to him in silence Do you feel a little better but more than relief I feel sadness Why, why did I have her in my house for so many years I trusted her with everything and look, people aren’t always who they seem Yes I’m learning the hard way There was a pause Ricardo sat in the chair next to her bed And Beto is very calm He doesn’t want to talk much about the subject anymore I understand At his age he has experienced more betrayals than many adults Do you know what he told me? That despite everything he did want her to repent, that he didn’t hate her he just wanted her to understand the damage he did Ricardo thought about it for a moment He has more heart than many of us Marcela smiled Yes that’s why we love him The days passed without drama Little by little the life returned there at its pace Beto already knew that he could not trust but cuEveryone also understood that there were adults who were on his side. He no longer hid to check if his backpack was still there. He no longer jumped if someone touched his shoulder. He was slowly but surely letting go of his street habits. Ricardo began to notice things he hadn’t seen before. Beto left notes in the kitchen when he left for school. He organized the TV controls like Emiliano did. He left cookies broken in half in case anyone else wanted them. Small but loving details. It was clear that he was no longer just passing through. It was clear that he felt at home. One afternoon, while Beto was doing homework and Ricardo was looking over some papers, the doorbell rang. It was the lawyer. He was holding a card and a serious face. Everything was in order, but in a folder, read it calmly. Ricardo opened the folder. They were the papers for the lawsuit against Marta and Toño, but there was also something else, a document to formalize Beto’s legal care while he and Marcela decided if they would take the next step. And Doto knows? Ricardo asked. No, but he can find out when you think it’s necessary. That night, Ricardo went up to the room. Beto found him lying down reading a science book. He knocked on the door twice, even though it was already open. Can I come in, of course? He sat on the edge of the bed. Today the lawyer came. He brought everything from the case. It’s already closed and nothing. I just wanted you to know. And I also wanted to ask you something. Say, if at some point you’d like to make this official, about living here, about being part of us, would you like to? Beto didn’t answer immediately. He closed the book, put it aside, and stared at the ceiling. Then he turned his head. You and Marcela love me like a son. Ricardo didn’t blink. Yes, Beto didn’t smile. He didn’t cry. He just covered himself with the blanket up to his nose and said, “Then I do.” Ricardo ruffled her hair, stood up, and left without another word. Sometimes the biggest decisions are made quietly and with a calm heart. It was a quiet Sunday, one of those rare ones where there’s no drama, no races, no bad news. Beto was in the garden painting a sheet of paper he’d been given at school with watercolors. He’d been given homework to do a scene that would bring him peace. He’d drawn a bench with a tree and three figures: a woman in a wheelchair, a man wearing dark glasses, and a boy with a cap turned backward. They were his peace. Ricardo was pruning some branches, and Marcela slept for a while on the couch, a closed book on her chest. The sun shone softly, as if it had finally grown tired of being burned. Everything was perfect until the bell rang. Beto was the first to hear. He left the brush in the water can, wiped his hands on his pants, and walked up to the gate. There was a woman standing there. She must have been about 35, a slim brunette with her hair tied back in a loose braid and her eyes full. of
something strange like fear mixed with hope “Hello” she said as soon as Beto peeked out “You’re Beto!” He froze No one ever came asking for him Who are you the woman gulped boy I don’t know how to say this but I’m your mom Beto took a step back His heart started to beat like a drum He didn’t understand anything He fell silent The woman took the opportunity to continue talking My name is Lidia and I’ve been looking for you for 9 years At that moment Ricardo went out to the garden and saw him pale standing in front of the gate He walked quickly Everything was fine Beto didn’t turn around
He just raised his hand and pointed Ricardo approached the gate looked at the woman and said cautiously “Can I help you I need to talk to you It’s about the child.” Ricardo looked her up and down distrustfully approached Beto put a hand on her shoulder “Do you know her?” She says she’s my mother. Ricardo felt his body go cold. Can you come in, ma’am? Thank you. Once inside. They sat down in the living room. Marcela was already awake. Ricardo explained to her in two sentences what was happening, and although she didn’t say anything, her eyes remained fixed on the woman. Lidia placed her hands on her legs and began to speak. I gave birth to a boy at the General Hospital 9 years ago. His name was Alberto, just like his father. The day I was born, they placed him in my arms and then took him away for tests. I also felt sick. I had complications. When I fully woke up, they told me that the baby was not there, that they had taken him for observation, but they never returned him to me. And what did they tell you after that? He had died, but they never let me see him. They never gave me his body alone? a record and a sealed drawer Marcela and Ricardo looked at each other Beto was with his head down I don’t know why but I always felt like he wasn’t dead I spent years asking No one gave me answers A few months ago a support group of mothers helped me investigate They found crossed records inconsistencies and then a photo one from the hospital There was a man leaving with a baby in his arms He wasn’t part of the staff Are you saying that someone stole your child yes Ricardo gulped And how did you get here on social media I saw a post where they talked about a nChild rescued from the street admitted to a hospital with the same name I started to investigate, I compared dates, age and when I saw his photo I knew it was him Marcela couldn’t speak She had her hand pressed against her chest And what do you want to do now Lidia looked at them with tears in her eyes I don’t want to take anything from him I just want to know the truth If he does, if you allow me, I would like to take a DNA test There was a huge silence Beto still didn’t speak Marcela looked at him and stroked his arm What do you think? The boy raised his head.
I don’t know. I don’t remember her. I don’t know if it’s true, but I want to know. A week later, the lab delivered the results. Ricardo went to get them. He didn’t open them in the car. He waited until he was home with Marcela and Beto, the three of them sitting at the table. Ricardo looked at them, took a deep breath, and tore the envelope open. Compatibility 99.9%. Marcela brought her hands to her mouth. Beto froze. “So yes, it is,” the boy said. Ricardo indicated, “Yes, Beto is your mother.” The silence that followed was different. It wasn’t from fear or anger. It was a strange silence that was hard to explain, as if everyone knew something big had just happened but no one knew how to react. Marcela was the first to speak. “What are you going to do?” Beto stared at the table. “I don’t know.” He didn’t sleep that night. He stared at the ceiling, thinking about everything. About the name Lidia, in the hospital, about Marcela’s letter, about the drawings, on the street, about the hugs.
On the good days and the painful ones. He knew he had to make a decision, but it wasn’t just any decision, it was the most important one. of his life Three long, heavy days passed, filled with silences that felt eternal. Beto didn’t say much. He ate little, slept poorly, was present in the house, but his mind wandered off to something else every so often. He looked at his notebooks, his drawings, the garden, and then he looked at his phone. Sometimes he picked it up and put it down. He knew that at any moment it was going to ring. And it did. It was Lidia. Marcela handed him the phone, didn’t ask anything, just put it in his hand and left the room. Beto answered in a low voice. “Well, hello, my love,” Beto hesitated a little. It was strange that someone would call him that, and even stranger that it came naturally to him. He answered well, more or less. “I can’t stop thinking about you too.” “Silence,” she asked. “Can I see you?” “Yes, okay.” They agreed to talk in a nearby park, a large, quiet place with benches, trees, and old games that creaked in the wind. Beto arrived, just wanted to go, Ricardo took him and waited in the car a few meters away, his heart heavy. Lidia was already sitting down. She wore a gray sweater and had tired eyes. Thank you for coming” she said when she saw him I didn’t know if he was going to come, the truth is and you had every right I understand that you’re confused I’m confused and angry and also sad all at once I know and I don’t want to pressure you I just wanted to see you know how you are Seriously I’m fine but I don’t know what Lidia looked down took a little box out of her purse and gave it to him I made this for you when you were born It’s a little bracelet It had your name embroidered on it I kept it all this time Beto took it carefully It was made of red thread with little letters Beto looked at it for a while Why until now because I didn’t know you were alive because they cheated on me because they broke me But no matter how much time has passed I’m still your mom And if you give me a chance I would like to be in your life even from afar even if it’s just a little bit but to be And if I don’t want to then I’ll leave I’m not going to force you You’ve already suffered too much You decide That last sentence went around in his head for hours You decide No one had ever told him that They always took him out they pushed him they left him They had never given him the option That night he didn’t talk to anyone He got in to his room and took out Marcela’s letter. He read it again. Every word he hugged him. Then he looked at the bracelet and finally he thought of Emiliano. In that room full of toys in that bed that was now also his. The next day he got up early. He went down to the kitchen. Marcela was there drinking coffee. Ricardo was reading the newspaper although he clearly didn’t understand anything she was reading. They both looked at him. I know what I want now. Marcela straightened up. Ricardo put down the newspaper. I want to stay. They both smiled but didn’t say anything. They let him talk. Lidia is my mother and she gave me life and I know she loves me, but you, you saved me. You taught me what it’s like to be at home. To eat without fear, to sleep without worry. To be asked if I want more milk, to be hugged for no reason. And do you want to see her? Ricardo asked. Yes, but I don’t want to go with her. I want to live here with you if you still want. Marcela got up as best she could and hugged him. Ricardo stood behind them. He put a hand on each of their backs and brought them closer together. “Of course we do, son,” Ricardo finally said. Beto has been there for a long time. It wasn’t a giant or scandalous smile It was one of those that come from the soul and stay Two weeks later in a small court they signed the papers Ricardo and Marcela took legal custody The judge was brief There were no complicationsLidia was there, she cried softly, and when it was all over, she approached Beto. “Can I hug you?” “Yes, it was a quick but sincere hug. “Thank you for not hating me,” she told him. “Thank you for not giving up,” he replied and left. He didn’t disappear, but he left. He knew it wasn’t his place, that maybe he would have one in the future. But for now, it wasn’t time to go back; it was time to respect. That night, they had rice and chicken for dinner. They laughed and watched an old movie, and Beto fell asleep on the couch. Ricardo carried him to bed. Marcela covered him up. Before turning off the light, she whispered something in his ear. “You’re home now, and you’re not leaving here without opening your eyes.” Beto smiled.