Three babies.
Three pieces of Patricia.
Three lives that depended entirely on him.
Behind him, Hortensia scoffed.
“Oh please,” she said. “You don’t even know how to hold them.”
Sebastián turned slowly.
“You’re right,” he admitted.
The words shocked everyone in the room.
“I don’t,” he continued quietly. “Because every time I tried, someone told me I was doing it wrong. Every time I stayed, someone reminded me that Patricia died because of me.”
Hortensia’s smile faltered.
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