She gave a weak laugh. “I fell off my bike.”
I looked at her hands—swollen, red, bruised. Those weren’t from a fall.
“Lidia,” I said softly. “Tell me the truth.”
“I’m fine.”
I pulled back her sleeve before she could stop me.
Bruises covered her arms. Old ones fading, new ones dark. Finger marks. Belt lines. It had been happening for a long time.
“Who did this?”
Her eyes filled with tears. “I can’t.”
“Who?”
Then she broke.
“Damian,” she whispered. “He hurts me. For years. His mother and sister too. And… he hurt Sofi.”
I froze. “A child?”
She nodded. “She’s three. He came home drunk, got angry, and hit her. I tried to stop him—he locked me in the bathroom. I thought he would kill me.”
Everything went quiet.
My sister was shaking in front of me. A little girl was not safe in her own home.
I stood up. “You didn’t come here to visit. You came for help.”
She looked confused. “What?”
“You’re staying. I’m leaving.”
“No, you can’t—they’ll find out!”
“You still think he can change,” I said. “I don’t.”
We looked at each other—twins, same face, different lives.
Then we switched clothes.
She stayed in my hospital bed. I walked out as her.
When the nurse opened the door, she smiled. “Leaving, Mrs. Reyes?”
I lowered my eyes. “Yes.”
The doors closed behind me. The sun hit my face.
And I knew exactly where I was going.
