“Don’t get involved,” the head housekeeper muttered. “Mr. Alvarez is in a foul mood.”
Elena went anyway. She crouched near the bridge and found Gabriel curled against the wood, shoulders shaking.
“Hey,” she whispered. “It’s okay. Breathe.”
He grabbed her sleeve like a lifeline. “They want me to pick another mom. But they don’t love me. They love Dad’s money.”
Elena didn’t rush to correct him. She just smoothed his hair. “No one replaces your mom,” she said. “But you’re allowed to choose who feels safe. Trust what you know.”
Ricardo’s voice cut across the lawn. “Gabriel! Right now!”
Footsteps approached—several pairs. Ricardo appeared at the stream with the five women behind him. His gaze locked on Elena, and his expression tightened.
“What are you doing here?” he snapped. “Gabriel, come out. Greet them. Make your choice.”
Gabriel stood slowly, wiping his cheeks. He looked at the women in their expensive heels, then at Elena in her plain uniform, hands still wet from cleaning. His throat worked, then his voice steadied.
Silence snapped into place. The stream kept running, but everything else stopped: the women’s smiles, Ricardo’s posture, even the air.
