“Camila…”
A voice cut through the rain.
She looked up, her heart racing. Rain poured down her face, mixing with tears she could no longer tell apart—pain or anger.
Under the dim yellow streetlight, a figure rushed toward her.
“…Diego?”
Her voice trembled.
Her brother. The one she hadn’t seen in months—because Álvaro had always found ways to keep them apart.
Diego said nothing. He took off his jacket and gently placed it over her shoulders.
When he saw the mark on her cheek, his expression changed.
Not shock.
Controlled anger. Cold and quiet.
“Who did this to you?”
Camila didn’t answer.
She didn’t need to.
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