Then I heard new footsteps enter the room.
I didn’t need an introduction to know who it was.
Ramiro’s familiar scent reached me a second later, instantly sharpening my awareness.
Paper rustled softly somewhere to my left.
A file being opened. The quiet turning of pages.
Then a pause.
A subtle exchange. Someone handing something over.
The temperature in the room seemed to drop another degree.
“That’s the DNA report,” Ramiro said quietly. “She is indeed your Tess, Rafael.”
My stomach dropped.
The DNA test.
The one Ramiro had arranged yesterday.
The one I had desperately hoped would prove all of this was a mistake.
Instead, it had confirmed my worst fear.
The room fell silent.
Then I heard the sharp slap of papers hitting a desk.
“I don’t need a DNA report to recognize my own daughter,” Rafael said.
The conviction in his voice stole what little hope I had left.
My stomach dropped.
“You may leave,” Rafael said to Ramiro. His voice had gone completely flat now—dangerously calm. “I’ll deal with her myself.”
“I’ll be outside,” Ramiro said simply.
Then came the sound of his footsteps retreating, until the door to the outer office clicked shut with a soft finality that felt louder than it should have.
I couldn’t see Rafael.
But I could feel him—his rage, his anger—pressing against the air like something alive.
He shifted in front of me.
Repositioning.
His attention moved between me and Zara like a blade calculating distance.
I could sense it—the way his focus shifted between me and Zara, like a predator weighing two targets, deciding which mattered more in that moment.
“My daughter doesn’t even seem to recognize me anymore.”
Something in Rafael’s voice cracked—just for a second.
