—That’s a lie! —Elena felt that, for the first time in days, her voice was coming out freely. —I beg you, sir. My son… is in the hospital. I asked for thirty minutes. That’s all
“Your son?” Victor blinked as if someone had thrown sand in his eyes. “You never told me you had a son.”
“I didn’t want to lose my job,” Elena said, each syllable carrying the dust of a hospital corridor. “I needed it for the medicine. I thought I could handle it all. But she…” She looked at Catherine, not with hatred, but with a stinging sorrow.
“See? She hides things.” Catherine shrugged as if pointing at a stain on a carpet. “She can’t be trusted.”
Victor’s fist slammed against the headboard. The sound was sharp, final.
“Stop it!” His gaze, now, was pure steel. “Do you hear yourself, Catherine? Tying up a woman like she’s a thief? Putting our children in danger to humiliate her? What kind of home do you think I run?”
Catherine took a step forward, her pride wounded. “I’m your wife. You owe me loyalty.”
“And I gave it to you,” he murmured. “But loyalty doesn’t include turning a blind eye to cruelty.”
Elena’s sobs filled the silence. Victor took a deep breath. He approached the young woman and carefully untied the knots. Her skin rose in red arcs. He took the twins with a loving clumsiness; the children, as if recognizing a harbor, buried their faces in the suit and quieted down. Victor didn’t take his eyes off his wife.
“My children trust the person you’ve treated as disposable more than their own mother,” he said slowly. “And now I understand why.”
