In the early hours of the morning, while Valeria was finally falling asleep thanks to a cup of chamomile tea that had been prepared for her, Rebeca confessed the whole truth to her sister in the kitchen. Leonor covered her mouth, stifling a scream of horror.

“That bastard…” Leonor muttered, tears of rage streaming down her cheeks. “We have to go to the police, Rebeca. He can’t get away with it.”

At 2 a.m., Rebeca’s cell phone lit up the darkness of the table. It was Ernesto. Rebeca watched the screen vibrate. 1 call. 2 calls. 5 missed calls. Finally, 1 text message arrived.

“Where the hell are they? Dinner isn’t ready. Don’t mess around, Rebecca. Go back to the house with the girl. Now.”

Leonor read the message over her sister’s shoulder and felt nauseous.

—Block him. We’re going to the Women’s Justice Center first thing tomorrow.

At 8:00 a.m., the three women walked through the doors of the government building. The process was grueling. Valeria had to give her statement in front of specialized psychologists and public prosecutors.

For almost three hours, the girl had to relive her own hell, recounting how the man who was supposed to protect her had repeatedly threatened her, telling her that if she spoke, he would kill her mother.

While they waited in the hallway, Leonor’s cell phone vibrated. Rebeca had turned hers off, so now the notifications were going to her sister’s. Leonor opened the message from an unknown number. Her blood ran cold. She showed the screen to Rebeca, her hands trembling.

It was a photograph. It showed the facade of Leonor’s house in Tonalá, taken from the sidewalk across the street.

Underneath the image was a single text: “Tell your sister to go out with Valeria. If they don’t come out in 10 minutes, I’m going in. And I swear they’re not going to like it.”

The monster wasn’t just looking for them; it had found them. It was out there, lurking.

Panic erupted in the waiting room. Rebeca ran to one of the prosecutor’s agents and showed him the screen. In a matter of seconds, the building mobilized.

Four patrol cars were immediately dispatched to the Tonalá office, while another team secured the exits of the Justice Center. Rebeca hugged Valeria in a safe room, feeling like her heart was going to burst.

The little girl was crying, gripped by an anxiety attack, convinced that the man would walk through the door at any second to carry out his deadly threats.

Two hours of pure agony passed. Two hours in which time seemed to stand still. Finally, a female detective in a tailored suit and with a stern expression entered the room. She sighed deeply and looked at Rebecca and the little girl.

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