But something inside me had changed that morning.
Not cracked.
Moved.
And there was no going back.
Rocío advanced cautiously, as if she were approaching a nervous animal.
"Elena, come on," she said with forced gentleness. "You're exaggerating. Sergio just lost his temper."
I looked at her handbag, the one she had asked me to buy two months earlier because the previous one had suddenly become "too old".
"Did he lose his temper," I asked gently, "or did he think there would be no consequences?"
She opened her mouth, then closed it again.
Sergio crossed his arms.
"You always do that," he said. "You dramatize everything. You act like a victim."
The word "victim" sent a chill down my spine.
For a moment, I wondered if he really believed what he was saying, or if it was simply easier for him to believe it.
The officer cleared his throat.
"Ms. Martín has finished retrieving her belongings. You will receive official notification regarding the complaint."
