“DAD, MY LITTLE SISTER WON’T WAKE UP, WE HAVEN’T EATEN FOR THREE DAYS!” THE MILLIONAIRE WAS SHOCKED.
Tomás went silent for a moment, then sprang to his feet, knocking his chair aside. He snatched his keys from the desk and rushed out without explaining anything to anyone. While the elevator carried him down, he dialed Leticia’s number. Her phone was off. Again. He tried three more times. Nothing.
He jumped into his car, started the engine, and called again. Straight to voicemail.
—Damn it!
Tomás drove directly to Leticia’s house. It took less than thirty minutes. He parked hastily, jumped out, and pounded on the door with all his strength.
“Santiago, it’s your dad! Open up!”
No response. He pushed the door. It wasn’t locked. He stepped inside.
The house was completely quiet.
In the living room he saw Santiago sitting on the floor, hugging a pillow. His face was dirty, his eyes swollen, and his stomach looked sunken.
“Dad, I thought you weren’t coming.
” “Where’s Alma?”
Santiago pointed toward the armchair. Alma lay there, completely still, her face pale and her lips dry. Tomás rushed over and touched her forehead. She was burning with fever and didn’t react.
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