Chapter 2
Julián stopped beside the dining table with the confidence of a man who had spent years controlling every room he entered.
He rested one hand on the back of Valeria's chair and casually lifted his tequila glass with the other. The guests watched in uneasy silence, unsure whether they were witnessing an awkward family misunderstanding or something much darker.
Ernesto never looked away from his daughter.
"Valeria," he said quietly, "look at me."
She slowly raised her eyes.
There was no anger in her father's face.
No panic.
Only concern.
That frightened her more than if he had shouted.
Because she knew Ernesto Salgado rarely lost control.
He simply waited until he understood the truth.
Julián laughed lightly.
"Mr. Salgado, you're making everyone uncomfortable."
Ernesto finally turned toward him.
"Am I?"
"I think you're overreacting."
"I asked my daughter a question."
Julián took a slow sip of tequila before answering.
"She bruises easily."
Ernesto remained silent.
"So do a lot of people."
Still silence.
Julián continued smiling.
"It isn't a crime."
"No," Ernesto agreed calmly.
"It isn't."
Several guests exchanged uncertain glances.
The birthday music had stopped.
No one reached for another drink.
No one touched the birthday cake.
Ofelia stepped forward wearing her practiced social smile.
"Ernesto, today is Valeria's birthday."
"I know."
"We're here to celebrate."
"I know."
"Perhaps this conversation can wait."
Ernesto looked at her.
"For what?"
She hesitated.
"So everyone can enjoy the evening."
He answered without raising his voice.
"If my daughter has been assaulted, I don't believe anyone here should enjoy the evening."
The room became even quieter.
Julián laughed again.
This time it sounded forced.
"You make it sound dramatic."
Ernesto folded his hands in front of him.
"Then help me understand."
Julián shrugged.
"It was one slap."
Valeria closed her eyes.
She hadn't wanted him to say it.
Not like this.
Not in front of everyone.
Julián looked around the room as though expecting agreement.
"It wasn't a big deal."
Nobody responded.
He smirked.
"I gave her a slap instead of a birthday gift."
The words hung in the air.
One guest quietly lowered her wine glass onto the table.
Another instinctively stepped backward.
Ofelia's smile disappeared.
She turned sharply toward her son.
"Julián..."
He immediately realized something was wrong.
He looked around the room.
No one was smiling anymore.
The confidence on his face began to crack.
Ernesto reached calmly toward his left wrist.
Without saying a word, he unclasped his steel wristwatch.
He placed it neatly on the small entry table beside the front door.
Every movement was slow.
Deliberate.
Controlled.
The room watched in complete silence.
Valeria knew exactly what he was doing.
As a child, Ernesto always removed his watch before handling something that required his complete attention.
Court trials.
Serious conversations.
Funerals.
He believed distractions had no place in moments that changed lives.
He turned back toward Julián.
His voice remained almost gentle.
"You just admitted..."
A pause.
"...in front of thirteen witnesses..."
Another pause.
"...that you intentionally struck my daughter."
Julián swallowed.
"It wasn't like that."
"You said you slapped her."
"I was joking."
"Were you?"
"I—"
"You said you replaced a birthday gift with violence."
Julián's mouth opened.
No words came.
Ernesto continued.
"I'm a retired prosecutor."
His tone never changed.
"I've spent thirty-five years listening to people explain why their own recorded words somehow didn't mean what everyone heard."
The silence felt suffocating.
Valeria noticed something she had never seen before.
Fear.
Not in herself.
In Julián.
He looked toward his mother.
Ofelia immediately stepped forward.
"Ernesto, emotions are high."
"They are."
"I'm sure this can be resolved privately."
He looked at her calmly.
"If someone had struck your son, would you still ask for privacy?"
Ofelia couldn't answer.
One of the guests quietly took out a phone.
Another did the same.
Nobody was filming.
But several people had already begun texting.
The atmosphere had changed completely.
This was no longer a birthday party.
It had become a room full of witnesses.
Ernesto turned back to Valeria.
His expression softened instantly.
"Sweetheart."
She looked up.
"I need you to do something for me."
She nodded faintly.
"I want you to walk into the garden."
Confused, she blinked.
"Why?"
"Because you've spent three years protecting everyone except yourself."
His eyes remained steady.
"For the next few minutes..."
He offered a reassuring smile.
"...let me protect you."
Valeria felt tears spill despite every effort to stop them.
She nodded once.
Without speaking, she walked slowly toward the glass doors leading into the backyard.
As she stepped outside, warm Arizona sunlight touched her face.
She stopped beside the rose garden and looked back through the glass.
Inside the house, no one moved.
Ernesto remained standing exactly where he had been.
Julián's confidence had vanished.
Then, from the corner of her eye, Valeria saw sudden movement.
Ofelia hurried toward a storage closet near the kitchen.
She looked over her shoulder twice before pulling open the door.
Kneeling on the floor, she reached behind several cardboard boxes.
Her hands emerged holding a tightly tied black trash bag.
She clutched it to her chest with visible panic.
Valeria frowned.
What was she trying to hide?
At that exact moment, Ernesto quietly noticed the same thing.
Their eyes met through the glass.
For just an instant.
He gave the smallest nod.
He had seen it too.
May you like
And whatever was inside that bag...
He already knew it mattered.
