didn’t kiss her cheek.
I didn’t play my role.
“Where is Laura’s phone?” I asked.
She blinked. “Excuse me?”
“Her phone,” I repeated. “The one you took. The one you used to make sure she couldn’t reach me.”
My mother’s gaze sharpened. “You’re being dramatic.”
I laughed once—short and cold. “No. I’m being awake.”
She tilted her head. “I protected you.”
I stepped closer.
“From what?” I asked. “From love? From responsibility? From your grandchildren?”
Her eyes flashed.
“Those children are an embarrassment,” she hissed, the mask slipping. “Do you know what they would’ve done to your image? Investors don’t invest in a man who can’t control his personal life.”
My hands clenched.
“You stole my personal life,” I said.
She softened her voice again. “Santiago, you’re emotional. Let’s talk—”
I cut her off.
“I saw them,” I said. “Hungry. Scared. Living like the city didn’t care whether they existed.”
My mother’s lips tightened. “That’s not my problem.”
That sentence ended something inside me.
I took a breath.
“You told Laura I agreed,” I said. “You told her I chose money over my children.”
She shrugged lightly. “I said what I had to say.”
I stared at her.
“You didn’t do this for me,” I said. “You did it for yourself.”
