The woman didn’t react. She didn’t open her eyes, she didn’t move. But her chest rose and fell slowly, as if her body refused to give in.
They lifted her onto the stretcher urgently. As they carried her out, Ramírez scanned the place. There was no food. No water. No clean clothes. There was only an open notebook on a broken table.
He approached. And what he read broke his heart.
The words of a desperate mother
The notebook was old, the pages yellowed and wrinkled. But the handwriting was clear. Shaky, but clear.
“If anything happens to me, Lily knows what to do. I showed her the way to the hospital. I told her never to leave her siblings. To take care of them like I took care of her. I’m sorry I can’t do more. I’m sorry I’m not enough.”
Further down, another note:
“Day 1 postpartum: I feel weak. I can’t get up. Lily brings me water. She tells me not to worry. She’s seven years old and already stronger than me.”
“Day 2: The babies are crying a lot. I have no milk. Lily is giving them sugar water. I don’t know if it’s okay, but it’s all we have.”