I got up, walked toward his room… and stopped halfway.

A faint light came from the kitchen.

And a voice.

Mariana’s voice.

Soft. Gentle.

Whispering.

“It’s okay… he won’t take you away from me.”

I stepped closer, my heart pounding.

And then I saw her.

Standing in the kitchen.

Holding Mateo.

Rocking him slowly.

On the counter—

a glass of water.

And beside it…

a small, crushed pill.

My blood turned cold.

“Mariana?” I said carefully.

She turned.

Her eyes met mine.

Calm.

Too calm.

“You’re awake,” she said softly.

I looked at the glass. Then at her.

“What is that?”

She smiled faintly.

“Just something to help him sleep.”

My stomach dropped.

“That’s not necessary,” I said, stepping closer. “Give him to me.”

She didn’t move.

Instead, she held Mateo tighter.

“You don’t understand,” she whispered. “If he cries… someone will come.”

“No one is coming,” I said, trying to stay calm. “It’s over.”

She shook her head slowly.

“No,” she said. “You just didn’t see it before.”

Silence filled the room.

And then—

she glanced toward the hallway.

Not at me.

Past me.

Like someone was standing there.

Watching.

Waiting.

My skin crawled.