But Esteban had already crossed the threshold. There were small cameras in the hallway walls. Two interior doors had locks on the outside. The air smelled of chlorine, dampness, and something sour, as if the house were trying too hard to appear clean.
In the girl’s room they found dirty sheets, broken toys, clothes lying around, and marks on Sofia’s arms that no fall could explain.
Mariela crouched down in front of her and spoke in a voice so soft it almost seemed to break.
—Sofi, honey, nobody’s going to scold you. Tell me what happened.
The girl hugged the rabbit tighter.
He looked at his father.
Then he looked down.
—He said that if I told anyone… he was going to kill me.
The silence turned to lead.
Esteban handcuffed the man right there, in front of the stairs.
He didn’t scream.
He did not struggle.
He simply said, with monstrous serenity, that it was all a misunderstanding.
But as they took him to the patrol car, Sofia began to cry in a different way, like children cry when the fear is still there even after the monster is tied up.
And before Mariela could hug her, the girl murmured something that chilled her blood:
—Don’t go downstairs… she keeps her things there… and that’s where my aunt said she was never coming back…
