LOLA POV
I didn’t sleep at all. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw Adrián’s face on that terrace, heard his threats wrapped in legal logic, felt the weight of five years of carefully constructed lies on the verge of collapsing on top of me. At six in the morning, I gave up. I got up carefully so I wouldn’t wake the triplets, who were tangled together in the giant bed the way they always are, and dialed my father’s number.
He answers on the fourth ring, his voice rough with sleep but instantly alert when he recognizes my number.
“Lola? What’s wrong? Are the children okay?”
“The children are fine, papà. But I need to talk to you. Now. It’s urgent.”
There’s a pause where I can hear him moving, probably getting out of bed so he won’t wake Isabella.
“Give me ten minutes. I’ll call you on
