Helena and Raúl were on the other side of the room, their earlier bravado replaced with nervous glances. Nora was nowhere to be seen, though I suspected she had retreated somewhere with her phone, still documenting everything.

“Ma’am, can you hear me?” one of the officers, a woman with kind eyes, knelt beside me, her voice firm yet gentle.

I nodded weakly, trying to sit up. Pain shot through my body, but I managed to stay upright. “I’m… I’m okay,” I whispered, though I felt anything but.

“An ambulance is on its way,” she assured me. “We’re going to take you to the hospital to make sure you and the baby are alright.”

Víctor, seeing the situation spiraling out of his control, attempted to charm his way out of trouble. “This is a misunderstanding,” he insisted, his voice dripping with false concern. “She fell. Didn’t you, darling?”

The officer didn’t buy it. Her expression turned steely. “Sir, we need you to step outside while we speak with your wife.”

Helena, ever the antagonist, chimed in. “This is ridiculous! She’s always been dramatic. You’re ruining our family!”

Alex moved toward me, his protective instincts kicking in. “You’re all going to pay for this,” he muttered, barely containing his rage.

As Víctor was escorted out, I felt a mix of relief and dread. Relief that, for the moment, I was safe. Dread because I knew it was far from over.

Once outside, I saw neighbors gathered, drawn by the commotion. Some looked on with concern, others with judgment. I felt exposed, vulnerable, but also strangely empowered. The truth was out, and there was no going back.

I glimpsed the shattered remains of my phone on the floor and realized that one desperate message had set all of this in motion. A message that could have cost me everything, but instead delivered me from a nightmare I’d been too scared to escape.

The ambulance arrived, and as I was lifted onto the stretcher, Alex held my hand, his grip reassuring. “You’re safe now,” he said. “They won’t hurt you again.”

The ride to the hospital was a blur. I focused on the thought of my unborn child, praying for its safety. I knew my life had irrevocably changed, but I also knew I had a chance to rebuild, to create a future free from fear and violence.

The story of that morning would not end with a broken phone or bruises. It would end with justice, healing, and the unwavering love of those who stood by me when I needed it most. And perhaps, in time, it would end with a stronger, fearless version of myself, ready to face whatever came next.