He did not move for several seconds.

Then he turned around, his movements slow and stiff.

He walked to the desk and sat down in his leather chair.

He clicked his mouse.

Even on the small screen of my laptop, I could see the change in his face.

The color drained from his cheeks, leaving him a dull, pasty gray.

He leaned forward, his eyes locked on the video of his children.

His hand went to his mouth, his fingers trembling slightly.

He was checking the clock in the video, verifying the time.

Then he scrolled down to the legal document.

I watched his jaw tighten, the muscles in his neck standing out like cords.

He stood up so quickly his chair rolled backward into the glass partition behind him.

He grabbed his desk phone and pressed a button.

“Get Hector in here,” he said, his voice coming through the low-quality audio feed. “Now.”

He slammed the receiver down.

“He is angry,” Lucía said.

“He is terrified,” I said. “He knows I have everything.”

A moment later, the door to Alvaro’s office opened.