Chapter 3 - The Call
Without a word, Beatriz reached into the pocket of her simple, faded cardigan. Her fingers brushed against the cold metal of her phone. She pulled it out, her thumb moving with practiced precision as she dialed a number she had memorized but never dared to call.
The room fell into a suffocating silence as she raised the phone to her ear. Rodrigo scoffed, taking another sip of his scotch.
"Who are you calling? The maid? Because God knows you can't even clean up your own messes."
Beatriz ignored him. She held the baby tighter, her chin lifting as the line rang once, twice.
The call connected after a silence that seemed to last a lifetime. The young wife pressed the phone to her ear, clutching the baby to her chest, while her husband and mother-in-law stared at her in confusion. Her voice came out small, hoarse from crying, but for the first time that night, it was fiercely absolute.
"Dr. Almeida, that is enough. Do exactly as my father wrote."
On the other end of the line, a male voice answered with profound respect and gravity.
"Dona Beatriz, are you certain?"
May you like
She looked down at the floor littered with broken glass and spilled formula.
"I am certain. For myself, and for my son."
