Mauricio carried Renata out of the kitchen without saying another word.

Behind him, Carmen called his name.

He didn’t turn around.

Paola muttered something under her breath, but he ignored her.

His daughter had gone completely quiet.

That frightened him more than the dishes.

In the car, Renata sat beside him with her hands folded тιԍнтly in her lap.

“Daddy?”

“Yes, sweetheart?”

“Am I bad?”

Mauricio’s grip тιԍнтened around the steering wheel.

“No.”

“But Grandma said…”

“She was wrong.”

Renata stared out the window.

“Do you wish I was your real daughter?”

Mauricio pulled the car to the side of the road.

He turned toward her.

“You are my daughter.”

“But I’m adopted.”

“Yes.”

“Does that mean I’m not really yours?”

Mauricio reached across and took her small hand.

“It means I chose you. And I would choose you again.”

Renata finally smiled.

But Mauricio couldn’t stop thinking about the envelope.

That night, after Renata was asleep, he went into his study.

The envelope was still there.

He had noticed it earlier but hadn’t had the strength to open it.

Now he picked it up.

His hands stopped when he saw the handwriting.

He knew it.

He had seen it once before.

Years ago.

On the documents from the adoption agency.

His heart began pounding.

Slowly, he opened the envelope.

Inside was a pH๏τograph.

A young woman stood beside a hospital window, holding a newborn baby.

Mauricio stared at the baby’s face.

Then at the woman.

His breath caught.

It was Renata.

And the woman holding her was her biological mother.

On the back of the pH๏τograph was a handwritten message:

“Mauricio, if you’re reading this, I need you to know that I never abandoned my daughter.”

He read the next line.

His face went pale.

“I was forced to give her up.”

There was another sheet of paper beneath the pH๏τograph.

Mauricio unfolded it.

And suddenly, every question he’d had about Renata’s past came rushing back.

Why had her mother disappeared?

Why had the adoption happened so quickly?

Why had certain records been sealed?

And why had his own family been so determined to keep him from asking questions?

At the bottom of the letter was one final sentence.

Mauricio read it twice.

Then a third time.

“The people who told you I was ᴅᴇᴀᴅ were lying.”

He dropped the letter onto the desk.

For six years, Mauricio had believed Renata’s mother was gone.

But if this letter was real…

She was alive.

And she had been searching for her daughter all along.

Then his phone rang.

An unknown number.

Mauricio answered.

No one spoke.

He was about to hang up when a woman’s trembling voice finally whispered:

“Is Renata with you?”

Mauricio froze.

“Who is this?”

There was a long silence.

Then the woman said:

“I’m her mother.”