They hadn’t just known.

They had participated.

While I was paying the mortgage on our mansion in Bosques de las Lomas… while I was covering Mauricio’s sports car… while I was sending his mother money every single month—

they were celebrating my replacement.

I called Lidia.

For a second — just one — I hoped it was a misunderstanding.

It wasn’t.

“Sofía, accept it,” she said, her voice steady, almost bored. “You couldn’t give my son children. Valeria is pregnant. She’s a real woman. Don’t make this harder than it needs to be.”

Something inside me shifted.

It didn’t shatter.

It sharpened.

They thought I would cry. Beg. Collapse under the weight of humiliation.

Continued on the next page