“You have no authority to make such a decision,” Iglesias replied coldly.
“But I am allowed to take care of a child who was not protected by anyone,” Teresa replied, not looking down.
At that moment, footsteps echoed in the hallway. The apartment door opened. It was Maria, our third-floor neighbor, and her husband.
« I knew it! » she exclaimed, alarmed. « That baby is trouble, Teresa. You’ll get in trouble! Give him back before it gets worse. You never know where these abandoned babies come from. He might have diseases. He might be dangerous. »
The comment was so cruel that even young Mateo clenched his jaw.
But another voice came from the stairs. It was Mr. Sandoval, the baker, still in his flour-stained apron. He ran up the stairs, panting.
« I saw what happened! » he said. « The child almost died on my doorstep. Without Teresa, he would have froze to death in the street. She did the right thing! And what are you going to do in that reform school? Put him in a room with twenty terrified children? Here he has food and affection! »
Mrs. Iglesias sighed in exasperation. « Listen, the law says… »
“To hell with the law if he has to let the child die of cold!” Sandoval shouted.
The neighbors, feeling uncomfortable, began to withdraw.
Mr. Mateo spoke in a softer voice. « We can make a temporary exception, » he said, looking at his colleague. « The child can stay with you if you sign a temporary placement agreement. Social services will monitor him. »
Iglesias glared at him, but Sandoval’s presence and the neighbors’ embarrassment made her relent. « Three days, » she said coldly. « If we don’t have any information after three days, the child will be transferred. »
Teresa signed without hesitation. When the officers and neighbors left, she closed the door. Elian was still trembling.
“Will they come and take me away?” he asked, his voice breaking.
Teresa leaned forward and looked into his eyes. « As long as I live, no one will separate you from me. »
The next three days were a mix of apparent peace and quiet turmoil. Teresa tried to establish a routine: a hot breakfast, cartoons, an afternoon nap, and bedtime stories. Elian began to smile. But every time the doorbell rang, he ran and hid.
They returned on the third day. « We investigated, » Iglesias said. « We found no documents. No birth certificate, no family looking for him. The child doesn’t exist in the system. »
“It just means no one was interested in him,” Teresa replied.
— According to protocol, we have to move him to the center.
Elian, who was listening from the living room, burst into tears. He ran to Teresa and hugged her. “No, please, I don’t want to leave!”
“He has to come with us,” Iglesias said, taking a step forward.
Then, in despair, Elian screamed with all his might. This scream was not the cry of a child, but of a broken soul: « NEVER LEAVE ME AGAIN! »
The voice echoed throughout the building. Doors began to open. Neighbors poked their heads out. Sandoval ran upstairs.
“This child is no stranger!” the baker shouted. “It’s Teresa’s child! And it’s our neighbor!”
Mr. Mateo looked at Iglesias. “The law also looks out for the best interests of the minor,” he said. “And, of course, we are here to help. Let’s grant a stay. One more week. We will conduct a psychological evaluation.”
Overwhelmed by the offer, Iglesias reluctantly agreed.
This week, the investigation truly began. They visited hospitals. At a small emergency clinic in the old quarter, an elderly nurse admitted them. Her eyes widened at the sight of Elian.
« I remember him, » she said. « He arrived with a very high fever. The woman who brought him was desperate. She said someone was trying to take him away from her, that he wasn’t safe at home. »
“Was that his mother?” Teresa asked.
—I’m not sure. She looked scared. She said her name was Ana.
The nurse opened a cabinet and pulled out a box. She pulled out a child’s T-shirt with a blue thread patch. « It was his. I kept it. »
Teresa took the robe. Inside, carelessly sewn together, was an embroidered initial: « M. »
But Teresa noticed something else. Thicker thread in the hem. She tugged gently, and a small, rolled-up piece of paper fell out.
Her heart pounded. She opened it with a trembling hand. An address and a single sentence were written in shaky handwriting:
Valle de la Esperanza, 22 years old. Ana Morales. If anything happens to me, take care of my son.
The taxi took them to the outskirts of Madrid, to a neighborhood where the streets didn’t have pretty names. Valle de la Esperanza was a dead-end street of small houses with broken windows.
They arrived at number 22. The door was ajar. Mateo knocked. No answer, only a soft, dry cough coming from inside.
They went inside. The house was almost empty. Lying on a mattress on the floor was an extremely thin woman, with dark circles under her eyes and pale skin. She looked like a ghost.
Her dead eyes opened and looked at Elian.
« It’s impossible… » she muttered. « My dear… »
Elian hid behind Teresa. He didn’t recognize her.
“I’m Ana Morales,” the woman said, trying to sit up. “This is my son.”
These words were like a blow to Teresa’s chest.
“Why did you abandon him?” Iglesias asked.
Ana burst into helpless sobs. « I didn’t leave him. I was dying. I have a lung condition. When it got worse, I was afraid… I was afraid he would be left alone with me. I took him to the hospital because of a fever and couldn’t go back. They admitted me. I was hooked up to machines. When I came out, he was gone. I was looking for him, I swear… »
Elian took a step. « I was cold. And hungry. »
« I know, honey. And I’ll never forgive myself for that, » Ana sobbed. « I wrote that note… I embroidered an ‘M’ for ‘My Love’… in case I died. So anyone who found it would know they were loved. »
Teresa felt a lump in her throat. This wasn’t abandonment. This was the most desperate act of love she had ever witnessed.
“Can you take care of him now?” Mateo asked.
Ana slowly shook her head. « I can’t. Look at me. I can’t work. I can’t feed him. But I never stopped loving him. I prayed every day that someone good would find him. »
She looked at Teresa with pleading eyes. « Was that you? »
Teresa nodded. « He fell in the street. He’s probably dead. »
“Thank you,” Ana murmured. “Thank you for giving him what I couldn’t.”
Elian approached slowly. « You left me because you didn’t love me? »
“I left you because I loved you too much,” Ana said. “Because I wanted you to live.”
Elian looked at her and, with a sudden surge of emotion that he himself didn’t understand, walked over and took her hand. He rested his forehead against hers.
Ana took Teresa’s hand. « Take care of him as if he were your own. That’s all I want. »
But at that moment, the woman began coughing violently. The cough racked her chest. She fell back onto the mattress, unable to catch her breath.
“Call an ambulance!” Mateo shouted.
Elian cried in despair. « Mom! Mom, don’t fall asleep! »
The white lights in a hospital are always the coldest. Teresa kept Elian in the waiting room. Mateo and Iglesias waited with them.
Hours passed. Finally, the doctor emerged. His face was serious.
— Ana Morales’ family.
“We are here,” Teresa said, holding Eliana in her arms.
We did everything we could. Her body was too weak. The infection was progressing very quickly… I’m sorry. Ana died a few minutes ago.
The world fell apart in silence. Elian opened his mouth, but no sound emerged. Suddenly, a piercing scream tore from his throat. “NO! MOM! COME BACK! DON’T LEAVE ME YET!”
Teresa hugged him tightly, feeling his small body wracked with spasms. It was a broken cry, the cry of a child who had lost everything twice.
Iglesias had to step aside to wipe away a tear.
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