now.”
At that moment, Carmela noticed movement behind her office door. Salomé had heard everything. The girl was pale, trembling, her eyes fixed on her uncle. There was pure terror in that look. Gonzalo saw the girl too.
For a second, his mask of a respectable man slipped. What Carmela saw in his eyes convinced her of one thing. That man was dangerous, and Salomé knew it best. “No one. Go away,” Carmela said. “Go now or I’ll call the police.”
Gonzalo smiled. A cold smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “This isn’t over, ma’am. I’ll be back. And when I do, no one will protect that girl from her family.” The prison visiting room felt colder than ever.
Ramiro waited handcuffed to the table, but his demeanor had changed. He was no longer the defeated man of two days ago. There was fire in his eyes. Dolores sat across from him and studied him silently. “My name is Dolores Medina. I was a criminal defense attorney for 40 years. I saw your case on the news, and I need you to tell me everything.” “Why do you care?” “No one believed me for five years.” “Why would you be any different?” “Because 30 years ago, I let an innocent man be convicted.”
“I couldn’t save him. That haunts me every night. I’m not going to make the same mistake twice.” Ramiro stared at her for a long time, assessing whether he could trust this stranger. Finally, he spoke. That night I drank a lot. I’d lost my job. I was devastated. I fell asleep on the sofa and don’t remember anything else until I woke up with blood on my hands and Sara on the floor. I called 911, tried to help her, and when the police arrived, they arrested me. Did you hear anything? Did you see anyone?
