Camila Ríos’ voice cracked as she struggled to drag herself along the damp brick wall of the alley. Rain poured down, mixing with the tears on her cheeks. One of her heels had snapped, and her ankle throbbed violently every time she tried to move.
A tall figure approached through the shadows.
— Ma’am, it’s okay. I’m not going to hurt you.
Tomás lifted his hands slowly, stopping a few steps away so she wouldn’t panic. The woman in front of him was shaking uncontrollably, her elegant suit soaked and streaked with dirt.
“I… I can’t see clearly,” she whispered. “They stole my glasses…”
— Dad, she’s crying…
A small voice echoed from the alley entrance.
— Stay there, Martina. Call an ambulance, sweetheart.
At the word ambulance, Camila flinched. Her ankle burned with sharp pain.
Just half an hour earlier, she had been Camila Ríos, president of Grupo Solaris, leaving a dinner with foreign investors. Now she was just another injured woman on cold pavement, terrified and alone.
“My name is Tomás,” he said gently. “I work security around here. I just want to help.”
— Don’t touch me…
— I won’t. I’m just putting my jacket over your shoulders. It’s freezing.
