You realize your hands are shaking.
Patricia turns on you the second he leaves.
“Are you satisfied now?” she hisses. “You’ve created a spectacle.”
You look at the parents still whispering outside the gate. You look at Sofía frozen in the doorway.
“No,” you say. “I’ll be satisfied when she’s safe.”
That evening, Sofía’s mother finally arrives.
Her name is Elena Hernández. She is young, maybe twenty-six, with tired eyes and a supermarket uniform under her sweater. She comes running into the school office, pale and breathless, asking if Sofía is hurt.
At first, you think she did not know.
Then she sees Irene.
And something in her expression collapses.
Not surprise.
Fear.
Patricia tries to take over. “Señora Hernández, there has been a misunderstanding. Your daughter made a comment, and Maestro Diego overreacted—”
Irene cuts in. “Señora Hernández, we need to speak privately.”
Elena glances toward you, then toward Patricia, then toward the closed door where Sofía waits with the psychologist.
“My husband is coming?” she whispers.
“Not unless you call him,” Irene says.
Elena’s eyes fill with tears.
That answer alone tells another story.
You are asked to leave the office. You do, though every instinct in you wants to stay. You sit in your empty classroom, surrounded by tiny chairs and alphabet posters, listening to muffled voices through the wall.
An hour passes.
Then another.
At nearly seven, Irene finds you in the classroom.
Her face is tired, but her voice is steady.
“Sofía will not be going home with the stepfather tonight.”
You exhale for what feels like the first time all day.
“And her mother?”
Irene’s eyes soften. “She is afraid. But she is cooperating.”
You nod.
“Thank you,” she says.
The words hit you harder than you expect.
You look down at your hands. “I should have seen it sooner.”
“Maybe,” Irene says. “But you saw it now.”
That night, you drive home under Puebla’s yellow streetlights, exhausted and shaken. Your phone buzzes before you reach your apartment.
A message from Patricia.
We need to discuss your future at this institution.
You stare at the screen for a long moment.
Then you delete the message.
The next morning, the school feels different.
Not safer.
Quieter.
Teachers avoid your eyes. Patricia does not greet you. The secretary tells you the principal wants all documentation related to Sofía placed in her office by noon.
You refuse.
