Then 10.
Finally, a tall man, about 42 years old, wearing a gray t-shirt and work boots, opened the door. His perfect calmness was almost irritating.
—Good evening, officers.
—We received an emergency call from this house— Esteban said.
The man frowned, just enough.
—It must be a mistake.
“A little girl called,” Mariela added.
For one instant, so brief it almost seemed imagined, the man’s face hardened. Then he smiled.
—My daughter is asleep. She must have pressed something while playing.
Behind him, from the stairs, a small sound was heard.
A sob.
All three turned around at the same time.
There was the girl.
Pink pajamas.
Mismatched socks.
An old stuffed rabbit pressed against the chest.
Her eyes were swollen, and she looked like someone who had been crying silently for hours.
“Dad…” she whispered.
Mariela saw something else.
The girl’s hands were trembling.
And he avoided looking at his father.
That was enough.
The non-commissioned officer took one step forward.
—Sir, we need to talk to the minor.
—You can’t just come in like that. This is my property.
