The silence on the phone line seemed eternal.

David placed the phone on the counter while Anna remained on the floor, breathing with difficulty.

“Yes, I said Anna,” he repeated impatiently. “My wife. She’s exaggerating a domestic situation.”

The voice on the other end of the line became lower.

More dangerous.

—Where is she now?

David rolled his eyes.

—In my kitchen, making a scene. Look, sir… your daughter needs to learn how to behave.

Sylvia crossed her arms behind him, satisfied.

“Tell him to come and pick up his crazy daughter,” she whispered contemptuously.

David smiled.

—Did you hear that, sir? If you want to come for her…

But he didn’t finish the sentence.

Because the voice on the other end interrupted him.

—Listen carefully.

The tone was no longer simply serious.

He was authoritarian.

—My name is Alejandro Torres.

David frowned.

I didn’t recognize the name.

—I am the president of the Supreme Court.

The kitchen fell into absolute silence.

David blinked.

-That…?

The voice continued.

—And you just admitted, in a line that is being recorded by my office, that my pregnant daughter is bleeding at home… and that you refused to call an ambulance.

The smile disappeared from David’s face.

—That… that’s a misunderstanding.

-It is?

The sound of keys being typed could be heard on the other end of the line.

—Because I just sent an ambulance, two patrol cars, and a state prosecutor to your address.

Sylvia took a step back.

—David… what’s going on?

David swallowed hard.

—Sir, with all due respect…

-No.

Alejandro Torres’ voice turned to steel.

—You are no longer in a position to demand respect.

Anna was still on the ground, breathing with difficulty, but a small smile appeared on her lips.

David looked at the phone as if it were a dangerous object.

—This… this will ruin my career…

“No,” the voice replied coldly.

—His actions did it.

In the distance, sirens began to be heard.

Getting closer and closer.

Sylvia began to tremble.

—David… you said you had the sheriff under control.

But David already knew the truth.

The sheriff wasn’t the problem.

The problem was that the man on the other end of the phone was the most powerful judicial authority in the country.

The sirens stopped in front of the house.

Car doors.

Steps.

Knocks on the front door.

Anna closed her eyes as the paramedics rushed in.

“Here she is,” said one of them upon seeing her on the ground.

They lifted her up carefully.

David stepped back as the police entered behind him.

One of them asked:

—Who is David Miller?

David slowly raised his hand.

-It’s me.

The officer looked at him with an expression that didn’t bode well.

—You have the right to remain silent.

Sylvia screamed.

—This is a mistake!

But nobody listened to her.

As they carried Anna out on the stretcher, she looked at David one last time.

Not with hate.

But with a calmness he had never seen before.

Because that night she had not only lost control of her house.

He had lost everything.

His career.

His reputation.

Their freedom.

And it all started with a single phone call.

To a father who had always been there.

Even though nobody knew who he really was.