My old colleague, Sofia, handed me a cup of black coffee.

“The prosecutor has already accepted the validity of the parental surrender,” Sofia said.

She laid a stamped document on the glass table.

“Alvaro’s lawyers tried to challenge it this morning, but the ledger you provided made it impossible.”

“They have no leverage,” I said.

“None,” Sofia agreed.

“He signed it before he was taken into custody.”

“It is binding.”

I took a sip of the coffee.

It was hot and bitter.

“What about the assets?” I asked.

“The apartment in Madrid is yours,” she said.

“It was in your family’s name before the marriage.”

“The accounts in Switzerland are frozen, but your personal savings are clear.”

“You can live comfortably, Inés.”

“I do not want to just live comfortably,” I said.

“I am going back to work.”

Sofia smiled, a genuine expression that warmed her tired eyes.

“The firm has missed you,” she said.

“The partners would be glad to have you back.”

“I will start on Monday,” I said.

I stood up and took the stamped custody document.