“Perfect,” he said with a smile. “I’ll give you a full checkup since I never have time with you.”

I remembered the smell of disinfectant. The metallic shine of instruments. I remembered him offering me a mild sedative because I was tense from work.

I remembered waking up slightly dizzy with a mild abdominal pain that he blamed on “the examination.”

Then we went out to dinner as if nothing had happened.

The nausea twisted into a knot of quiet fury.

“There was one time…” I began. “He sedated me. Said it was just for a deeper exam.”

Álvaro closed his eyes briefly, as if confirming something he had feared.

“Lucía, what I’m about to tell you is very serious. This type of procedure… is sterilization. You cannot become pregnant naturally with this. And if you don’t remember it and never signed consent, then we’re talking about something completely illegal.”

The word sterilization struck my mind like a stone.

I stared at him, waiting for him to take it back, to say it was a mistake, that the machine was wrong.

But he didn’t look away.

“I want a second opinion,” I finally said, my voice now cold and thin. “And I want a written report. Detailed. With all the images.”