When our children returned to the hospital the next morning—pretending to be attentive, pretending to care—my bed was empty.

Ernesto raised an eyebrow.

“Are you sure?”

“More than ever.”

For years I had planned to leave everything to Diego and Graciela.

The house.

The savings.

The insurance policy.

Everything Lucía and I had built over forty years.

But that afternoon I signed new documents.

Most of our assets were assigned to a foundation that supported elderly people abandoned by their families.