I reached out to grab the photo album on the floor, but her high heel came down on my hand before I could.
“Get lost!” she screamed. “You filthy piece of trash! You'd use a child to manipulate me! Don’t even think about stepping foot in the Seco estate again. Everything that belongs to our family—our child, our home—you’re not taking any of it!”
Under her orders, the bodyguards smashed Claudia’s and my luggage, tossing the pieces into the trash bins outside. The photo album Claudia and I had lovingly made together was torn to shreds and thrown out like garbage.
Eyes red, I knelt down, trying to gather the scattered fragments of the last memories I had of my daughter. But the more I tried, the more they slipped through my fingers.
Then, Hector opened a nearby window. A gust of wind swept through, catching the torn photos and sending them fluttering into the air like confetti.
“Oh no,” he said mockingly. “I just thought the whole house was starting to smell like vomit after Mr. Andino’s little meltdown. Thought I’d let in some fresh air.”
“Forget him,” Regina said coldly. “He doesn’t care about his own daughter’s life—this is all just another act to get sympathy from me.”