“I told the neighbor not to call you.”
“We know that too.”
“You have your lives. Your work. Your families.”
Sofía reached for his rough hand.
“And we have those lives because of you.”
Behind her, Valeria was already crying.
Lucía wasn’t.
Lucía was staring directly at Principal Robles.
And there was something in her expression that made Chema uneasy.
Not anger.
Recognition.
Judge Elena Vargas cleared her throat.
“Miss…?”
“Sofía Hernández.”
“And your relationship to the defendant?”
Sofía stood.
“He is my father.”
The prosecutor looked down at his documents.
“According to the records—”
“He adopted me when I was an infant.”
The courtroom became quiet.
Sofía placed her leather case on the defense table.
“And I am requesting permission to enter an appearance as his legal counsel.”
