Veronica turned towards me.
—Did you know that woman?
I was frozen.
Yes. I met Alma Ríos many years before I got married. It was a brief, poorly concluded relationship, the kind you bury believing that time erases what cowardice left behind. I left without a proper explanation, without looking back. I never imagined that that story could return, transformed into poison for my daughter.
Nayeli told me her mom cried because of you, Lucia said. That now it was my turn to pay.
Veronica stood up, trembling.
—Did an adult allow this out of revenge?
I didn't know what to say. Guilt was suffocating me.
The next day, the three of us went to school. The principal greeted us with a fake smile. Professor Alma Ríos was there, impeccably dressed, calm, as if her position gave her authority over the truth.
"We need to handle this calmly," said the director.
"The calm is over," I replied.
I laid out screenshots, messages, dates, nursing reports, and Lucia's absences on the table. Alma barely glanced at the papers.
"Teenagers exaggerate," he said.
—Repeat it while looking her in the eyes—I said, pointing at Lucia.
He couldn't.
Then I looked directly at her.
"Your daughter isn't punishing mine for a childish squabble. She's using her to collect a debt you incurred in your own home."
The headmistress turned to Alma. For the first time, the teacher lost her composure.
"There are men who destroy lives and then want to play the saint," he spat.
