Every time she moved, I looked up.
Every time she murmured something in her sleep, I felt another wave of guilt.
I had been working to provide for her while failing to see what was happening right under my roof.
At five in the morning, I went into the kitchen.
I made oatmeal pancakes, the way Elena used to make them on Sunday mornings. I added cinnamon because Sofia had always loved it, and I placed a glass of milk beside the plate.
When she finally appeared, she stopped at the kitchen entrance.
For a moment, I saw the little girl she had been before her mother’s death.
Then she glanced toward the empty chair where Patricia usually sat and immediately lowered her eyes.
“Come here,” I said gently.
She approached the table.
“Sit down.”
She hesitated.
I pulled out her chair.
“This is your home, Sofia. You don’t have to ask permission to sit at your own table.”
She sat.
I placed the plate in front of her.
“Eat as much as you want.”
She took a small bite, then another. She was so hungry that she tried to hide how quickly she was eating.
That hurt more than the bruises.
After breakfast, I sat across from her.
“I’m going to ask you some questions. You don’t have to tell me everything at once. If you need a break, we’ll take one.”
She rubbed her thumb against the edge of her plate.
“Will you send them away?”
“First, I need to understand what happened. Then I’ll make sure you’re safe.”
She looked up at me.
“Even if Patricia says I’m lying?”
“Even then.”
It took several minutes for her to begin.
At first, she spoke in short sentences.
Then, once she realized I wasn’t going to interrupt her, the story came out.
It had started with small things.
Patricia complained that Sofia used too much shampoo. Teresa said she left lights on unnecessarily. Bianca accused her of borrowing clothes she had never touched.
At first, I thought they were ordinary household disagreements.
But the complaints became rules.
Sofia was expected to clean the kitchen after everyone else finished eating. She had to wash the dishes, sweep the floors, and collect laundry from the bedrooms.
If she didn’t finish before bedtime, Patricia took away her phone.
