CHAPTER 4 — PART 2
CHAPTER 4 — PART 2
Arturo slowly lifted his head.
With the back of his hand, he gently wiped away a tear that had slipped down my uninjured cheek.
Then he looked straight into my eyes.
There was something there I had never seen before.
The uncertain young man who had spent his life seeking everyone else's approval was gone.
In his place stood a father.
A husband.
A man finally ready to accept responsibility for the family he had chosen.
"There isn't anything to decide, Valeria," Arturo said, his voice suddenly firm.
"The moment I heard your body slam against the incubator..."
"...the moment I heard the way my mother spoke about our son over that phone..."
"Leticia Garza stopped being my mother."
"I will never allow her anywhere near either of you again."
"I've already gone downstairs to the police office."
"I confirmed the criminal complaint the hospital staff filed for assault and child abuse."
"My uncles can say whatever they want."
"They can cut me off financially."
"They can throw me out of the family business if they think I'm an ungrateful son."
"I don't care."
"I'd rather work any job in the world than ever let that woman set foot inside our home again."
Dr. Robles, who had respectfully remained silent throughout our conversation, finally stepped forward.
"I'm relieved to see you've chosen to protect your family, Mr. Villaseñor," he said.
"But I need to prepare you for what comes next."
"This legal process is going to require your full attention."
"Mrs. Leticia has considerable financial resources."
"Her attorneys will almost certainly attempt to challenge every piece of medical evidence we've documented today."
"I need both of you to report to the Medical Director's office."
"We'll formally hand over the injury report..."
"...along with the security camera recordings."
"It's important that everything is officially documented before the defense attempts to file any legal motions seeking access to—or suppression of—the evidence."
"I'll go right away, Doctor," Arturo replied without hesitation.
He stood and absentmindedly straightened his wrinkled shirt.
Then he looked back at me.
"Stay here with Patty."
"Don't leave this chair until I come back."
"I'm going to make sure every single detail is entered into the official record."
"I won't give my mother's lawyers any opportunity to twist what happened today."
I watched him walk toward the exit beside Dr. Robles.
For the first time in weeks...
I watched him leave without feeling abandoned.
The atmosphere inside the NICU gradually returned to normal.
The steady rhythm of medical equipment filled the room once more.
But everything felt different now.
The invisible weight that had always accompanied Leticia's visits was gone.
The room seemed lighter.
As if everyone could finally breathe.
Patty remained beside me.
After making sure I was comfortable, she carefully examined my cesarean incision to ensure the fall hadn't damaged any of the internal stitches.
"The incision looks perfect," she said after gently palpating the area.
"You were incredibly lucky."
"The impact landed almost entirely on your cheek and left shoulder."
"Your abdomen avoided taking the force of the collision against the incubator."
"I'm going to bring you an oral pain reliever."
"It'll reduce the swelling in your face..."
"...and hopefully help you get some rest."
"You've been through far too much today."
"Thank you, Patty," I said, settling deeper into the reclining chair.
"It feels like..."
"...like someone finally lifted a weight off my chest."
"I've been carrying it ever since Mateo was born."
"My face hurts."
"But somehow..."
"I feel calmer than I have in the past two weeks."
Patty smiled warmly.
"It's the weight of the truth, sweetheart."
"Truth has a way of setting people free."
With that, she headed toward the unit's medication room.
The next two hours passed in a strange haze.
The pain in my cheek gradually faded beneath the medication.
The gentle chorus of monitors, ventilators, and infusion pumps wrapped around me like a comforting lullaby.
Every few minutes I glanced toward Mateo.
His tiny hands stretched and curled inside the incubator.
His little fingers opened...
Closed...
Opened again.
For the first time since his birth...
No invisible threat hovered over him.
The woman who had tried to use my own son as a weapon against me was gone.
And somewhere downstairs...
Arturo was fighting for us.
That thought restored something inside me I hadn't realized I'd lost.
Hope.
It was nearly seven o'clock that evening when Arturo returned.
He looked exhausted.
Hours of statements, paperwork, and legal procedures had drained every ounce of energy from him.
But there was peace in his eyes.
He quietly sat beside me.
Without saying a word, he reached for my hand.
Our fingers intertwined naturally.
The warmth of his touch settled the last of my trembling nerves.
"It's done," he said softly, careful not to disturb the fragile silence of the NICU.
"Everything has been officially entered into the prosecutor's records."
"The assistant district attorney reviewed the security footage with the hospital director."
"The video is crystal clear."
He swallowed hard.
"It shows the exact moment my mother slipped her left hand through the side access port..."
"...grabbed Mateo's leg..."
"...squeezed hard enough to leave the bruise..."
"...and then yanked your arm before throwing you into the incubator."
I closed my eyes.
Even hearing it described made my stomach turn.
"Combined with Dr. Robles' medical report..."
"...the evidence was overwhelming."
"The judge immediately issued a restraining order."
"They also authorized preventive detention while prosecutors build the criminal case for child abuse and aggravated assault."
I took a shaky breath.
"Where is she now?"
A small part of me still feared she might somehow return.
Arturo looked down for a moment before answering.
"They transferred her to Santa Martha Acatitla Women's Correctional Center."
A flicker of sadness crossed his face.
Only for a second.
Then it disappeared.
"My uncles called me over and over."
"They kept saying I was bringing shame upon the family."
"They said our mother's place wasn't behind bars."
"I turned my phone off."
He squeezed my hand tighter.
"I don't care what anyone else thinks anymore."
"My only responsibility..."
"...is to you."
"And to our son."
"If my family wants to walk away because of that..."
"...they're free to do it."
"We'll build our own future."
May you like
Together.
(End of Chapter 4 – Part 2)
