The last thing I remembered was buying strawberries.

At 6:00 p.m., the hospital room grew dark as the autumn sun dipped below the horizon.

Detective Cole had called fifteen minutes earlier to inform me that three squad cars were en route to Hector’s construction office to execute the arrest warrant. I was scheduled to be discharged the following morning into a secure witness protection safehouse.

I sat in my bed, watching the streetlights flicker on outside my window.

Suddenly, the lights in my hospital room flickered twice and went completely dark.

The soft hum of the heart monitor cut out, replaced by a dull battery-backup beep. Down the hallway, I heard nurses shouting in confusion as the main corridor lights went black.

"Emergency generators should engage in ten seconds," a nurse called out from the hallway.

My chest tightened. An uneasy instinct—a survival trait honed by years of living with a unpredictable father—sent a chill down my spine.

I reached for the call button, but the line was dead.

Suddenly, the heavy door of my room swung open.

A figure stepped inside, illuminated only by the faint red glow of the emergency exit sign in the hallway.

It wasn't a nurse.

It was my mother, Teresa.

She looked wild. Her silver hair was disheveled, her eyes wide and bloodshot, and her hands were buried deep inside the pockets of her long trench coat.

"Mom?" I whispered, my voice trembling. "What are you doing here? How did you get up here?"

"Your father called me," Teresa said, her voice sounding strangely flat, devoid of emotion. "He said the police are coming to his office. He said you ruined us, Valeria. You destroyed everything we worked forty years to build."

She stepped closer to my bed. In the dim red light, I saw what she was holding in her right hand.

A heavy glass bottle of industrial rubbing alcohol and a silver lighter.

"Mom... put those down," I pleaded, trying to swing my legs over the side of the bed, but the pain in my shattered ribs almost made me pass out. "Mom, listen to me! Dad has been lying to you! He was having an affair with Chloe! He was stealing money! He beat me into a coma!"

"Lies!" Teresa shrieked, her voice echoing in the dark room. "All lies! He loves me! He protects me! You were always jealous of our marriage! You wanted to tear us apart from the day you were born!"

"He beat me, Mom!" I screamed, pulling down my gown to show her the massive, dark purple bruises covering my chest and ribs. "Look at me! Look at what your husband did to your daughter!"

Teresa stared at the bruises for a fraction of a second. A flicker of hesitation crossed her face, a tiny crack in her brainwashed armor. But then she shook her head violently, tears streaming down her face.

"He told me you’d say that," Teresa sobbed, flicking the wheel of the lighter. A small, terrifying yellow flame illuminated her face. "He said if you go to court, he'll go to prison forever. I can't live without him, Valeria. I won't let you put him in a cage."