Mateo closed his hand over the small object and turned his body to protect Leo with his chest, as if suddenly the greatest threat in that room wasn’t the sentence… but the people who had been staring at him for weeks without seeing anything.
“Don’t come any closer!” Clara roared, with a force no one had ever heard from her during the entire trial.
The referee slammed his fist on the bench.
—Order! Guardians, get the child to safety immediately!
But it was too late.
Mateo had slipped the object between his handcuffed fingers and managed to pull it completely out from under the blanket. It was a tiny pen drive. A black micro-device, almost invisible, wrapped in transparent tape and sewn onto the inner edge of the blue lining.
It wasn’t an accident.
It can’t be.
Vicente Aranda took a step back.
Just one.
But for a man like him, accustomed to dominating entire rooms with a glance, that step represented a breakdown.
Matthew awakened his memory.
“This didn’t happen by chance,” she said, her voice firmer than during the entire trial. “Someone knew I was going to give birth to my son today.”
The room erupted in murmurs.
The judge looked at the secretaries, the janitors, and the prosecutor.
“No one should leave,” he ordered. “Close the doors. Now.”
The guards obeyed.
The metallic click of the screws made the air seem heavier.
Clara was pale.
Not out of fear of Matthew.
For another reason.
Because of a memento she swore she had never seen, a memento that had traveled with the body of her seven-day-old son.
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