as I explained the situation. The dispatcher assured me that officers were on their way, and I was advised to stay calm and not to confront anyone. I retreated to the living room, my mind racing with possibilities. Was someone threatening Daniela? Was she in trouble? Or worse—was she betraying my son?
Minutes felt like hours as I waited. I nervously paced the living room, my eyes darting towards the bathroom door. Finally, the doorbell rang, and I hurried to let the officers in. I briefed them on the situation as they nodded, their expressions turning serious.
They approached the bathroom door, knocking firmly. “Police! Is anyone in there?” one of the officers called out. Silence. The only sound was the steady drip of water from the shower. The officer knocked again, louder this time. “Open the door, please.”
