The memory came back like lightning.
A pale boy.
A terrified father in the corridor.
Four agonizing hours in surgery.
“Daniel…” she breathed.
Sergio smiled, his eyes suddenly filling with tears. “He’s alive, Doctor. He’s twenty-three now.”
For a moment, Mariana forgot to breathe. “Truly?”
“He’s in his final year of medical school,” Sergio said, stepping toward her. “He wants to be a trauma surgeon. Just like you.”
Sergio pulled out a business card and gently placed it on the table. “I’ve spent thirteen years wishing I could find you to say thank you.”
Alejandro remained rigid in the hallway, his jaw clenched and posture tense with anger.
After Sergio finally left, Alejandro slammed the door and turned toward his wife. “Did you seriously have to come wandering out the second he walked back in?!”
Mariana stared at him, unable to understand his reaction. “That’s what you’re worried about?”
