And for the first time since she had walked into that hospital alone…
she didn’t feel completely alone anymore.
But the real question still lingered—unspoken, heavy in the air:
Where was Adrián Vega?
And what would happen…
when he finally came back?
The hospital room felt different now.
Not quieter—
but heavier.
Dr. Vega—still holding the baby—couldn’t take his eyes off him. His tears had slowed, but the emotion hadn’t.
Lucía watched carefully.
Something inside her had shifted… but not enough to trust him.
“Give him back,” she said softly, but firmly.
The doctor hesitated—just for a second—then gently returned the baby to her arms.
As soon as Lucía held her son again, everything else faded. She kissed his forehead, whispering:
“I’ve got you… I’m right here…”
But behind her, Dr. Vega took a shaky breath and reached into his coat pocket.
“There’s something you need to know,” he said.
Lucía didn’t look up.
“I’ve heard enough.”
“No,” he insisted quietly. “Not about Adrián… about your baby.”
That made her freeze.
Slowly, she looked up.
“What are you talking about?”
The doctor’s expression changed again—not shock this time, but something closer to fear.
“When I saw the birthmark… it wasn’t just recognition,” he said. “It reminded me of something else.”
Lucía’s grip tightened slightly around her son.
“What something else?”
Dr. Vega swallowed.
“A condition… rare. Genetic. It runs in my family.”
He paused.
“My son was born with it.”
The air in the room seemed to vanish.
Lucía’s voice dropped to a whisper.
“…What kind of condition?”
The doctor stepped closer, lowering his voice.
“It doesn’t show immediately. At birth, everything looks normal. Perfect, even.”
He looked at the baby again.
“But within weeks… symptoms begin.”
Lucía shook her head.
“No… no, you said he’s perfect. The nurse said—”
“And he is,” the doctor interrupted gently. “Right now.”
Her eyes filled with tears again—but this time, not from relief.
From fear.
“What happens to him?” she asked.
Dr. Vega closed his eyes briefly before answering.
“He’ll need monitoring. Tests. Possibly treatment very early… or it could become life-threatening.”
Lucía’s world tilted.
All the strength she had built over months…
all the courage that got her through labor alone…
suddenly felt fragile.
“Why didn’t Adrián tell me?” she whispered, more to herself than anyone.
Dr. Vega didn’t answer immediately.
Then, quietly:
“Because he didn’t want this for his child.”
A pause.
“…And maybe because he was afraid you’d leave.”
Lucía let out a broken laugh.
“He left first.”
Silence again.
Then suddenly—
The door opened.
Hard.
Both of them turned.
A man stood there—breathing heavily, eyes searching the room like he had run through the entire hospital.
His gaze landed on Lucía.
Then the baby.
Then… Dr. Vega.
Everything in his face changed.
“…Dad?” he said.
Lucía’s heart stopped.
Adrián Vega had finally come back.
But the look in his eyes wasn’t relief.
It was fear.
And guilt.
And something else…
Something that made Dr. Vega step forward slowly and ask:
“Why are you here now?”
Adrián swallowed hard.
“…Because I just got the results.”
Lucía’s voice trembled.
“What results?”
Adrián looked at his son—his eyes already filling with tears.
“…The ones that say there’s a 50% chance… he already has it.”
The room fell into complete silence.
And this time—
No one knew what to say next.
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