Jessica sank onto the couch, her body trembling as the gravity of the confrontation began to weigh on her. Her hands gripped the fabric of her dress, her knuckles white as she tried to ground herself. The room felt suffocating, its air thick with the echoes of Armando’s threat.
Alvaro, blissfully unaware, toddled toward her with his tiny truck in hand. He grinned, holding it up to her as if it could fix everything. Jessica let out a shaky breath, forcing a smile as she reached for him and pulled him onto her lap.
“You deserve better than this,” she whispered into his hair, her voice breaking. Tears stung her eyes, and she pressed her lips to the top of his head, inhaling the sweet, innocent scent of her son. “I don’t know how, but I’ll get us out of here. I promise.”
Her words sound
