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The lawyer’s name was Eduardo Salazar.
He had handled some of Claris’s legal affairs before her death.
Ricardo invited him into the office.
The girls were at school.
Luía was cleaning upstairs.
“What is this about?”
Eduardo placed a folder on the desk.
“Your wife left something.”
Ricardo frowned.
“What?”
“A letter.”
“For me?”
“Not exactly.”
Eduardo opened the folder.
“There are instructions regarding the children.”
Ricardo’s stomach tightened.
“What instructions?”
Eduardo handed him the document.
Claris had written it six months before her death.
Ricardo recognized her handwriting immediately.
His hands began shaking.
He read.
Then he stopped.
Read again.
The letter wasn’t about money.
It was about the girls.
Claris had written that if anything happened to her, Ricardo needed to understand that their daughters would not need someone to replace her.
They needed someone who would help them remember her without being trapped by grief.
She wrote about each child.
Mariana needed responsibility without becoming a second parent.
Laura needed reassurance.
Julia needed patience.
Sofia needed routine.
Beatriz and Bianca needed boundaries without humiliation.
And Isabela needed someone who would give her time to speak.
At the end, Claris had written:
“Ricardo, if you are reading this, you are probably trying to solve everything with money because that is how you have always protected us.”
Ricardo’s eyes filled.
She knew him too well.
The letter continued.
“But our girls don’t need a richer life. They need a present father.”
He stopped reading.
He couldn’t continue.
Eduardo quietly said:
“There is one more page.”
Ricardo turned it.
The final words were simple.
“If one day someone enters our home and helps you understand our daughters without trying to become me, don’t push her away because you’re afraid of loving again.”
Ricardo stared at the page.
His heart pounded.
He looked toward the doorway.
Luía was standing there.
She hadn’t meant to listen.
But she had heard enough.
Ricardo folded the letter.
“How much of that did you hear?”
“Enough.”
Silence.
Eduardo stood.
“I’ll leave you both.”
He walked out.
Luía remained by the doorway.
“I should go.”
“Why?”
“Because this is private.”
Ricardo stood.
“Claris knew.”
Luía looked confused.
“She knew what?”
“That one day I might meet someone who helped us.”
Luía shook her head.
“She didn’t know me.”
“No.”
Ricardo looked at her.
“But somehow she understood exactly what I needed.”
Luía’s eyes filled with tears.
Then the front door slammed.
Mariana came running inside.
“Dad!”
“What happened?”
“The school called.”
Ricardo’s face tightened.
“Which school?”
Mariana was crying.
“It’s Laura.”
They ran.
Laura had collapsed in the school bathroom.
When they arrived, she was barely responsive.
Ricardo dropped to his knees.
“Laura!”
Luía immediately checked her breathing.
The girl was conscious but shaking.
“She needs medical attention,” Luía said.
Ricardo picked her up.
“Call the ambulance.”
Then Laura whispered something.
“Dad.”
“I’m here.”
“Don’t let her leave.”
Ricardo looked at Luía.
“Who?”
Laura pointed weakly toward Luía.
“Her.”
