“I didn’t put that there,” she whispered, trembling. “I swear, Mateo… I didn’t know anything about it.”
Mateo looked at her for a little over a second.
And he believed him.
Not because I had time to doubt.
But that was because she knew Clara’s expression when she was lying.
And that wasn’t the face of a woman lying.
It was the face of a woman who was beginning to understand that someone had used her baby to impose a truth in a purchased room.
“Hand them over to the court,” said the judge.
Matthew didn’t move.
Vicente finally reacted.
“Your Honor, that proves nothing,” he said hastily. “Anyone could have slipped an object under that blanket to create a spectacle and delay the execution of the sentence.”
The judge turned her face toward him.
—Execution? That’s not the death penalty, Mr. Aranda.
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