My father did not move toward her.

He stood his ground, his arms hanging limp at his sides.

“It is over, Patricia,” my father said quietly.

Patricia stopped, her hand hovering in the air between them.

The sweet expression on her face began to stiffen, her lips tightening into a thin line.

“I do not know what you are talking about,” Patricia said, her voice dropping its warm tone.

“We have the recordings from the study,” Daniela, I said, speaking up for the first time.

Patricia’s eyes snapped to me, filled with a sudden, sharp hatred that made Martina shiver.

“We have the financial records you tried to transfer,” I added, staring back at her.

“And we have the medical reports regarding my mother,” Martina whispered, her voice shaking but clear.

Patricia looked from me to Martina, and then to Rosa, who was watching her with a calm, silent dignity.

“You are going to listen to these children?” Patricia asked, turning back to my father with a harsh laugh. “They have hated me from the day I arrived.”