At that moment, Elena’s phone vibrated.
A message appeared:
**Secure room ready, Judge Vargas.**
She locked the screen before anyone could see it.
In the distance, sirens approached.
Carmen grabbed her arm.
“Listen carefully. You’re going to tell the officers you were driving.”
Elena looked at Vanessa one last time.
“Did you hit someone and run?”
Vanessa leaned close enough for Elena to smell the wine on her breath.
“Yes,” she whispered. “And who’s going to believe you?”
Then the police cars turned onto the street.
“You have no future anyway. Just tell the police you were driving.”
The words exploded through the garage before Elena Vargas could respond.
Her mother, Carmen, gripped her shoulders so tightly her nails dug through the fabric of her jacket. Outside, Elena’s gray sedan sat damaged on the curb, its front bumper crushed and one headlight hanging loose. Mother-daughterjewelry
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