“DADDY, MY LITTLE SISTER WON’T WAKE UP, WE HAVEN’T EATEN IN THREE DAYS!” THE MILLIONAIRE WAS IN SHOCK. —“Hello.” —“Daddy.” —“Santiago, what happened? Why are you calling me from a different number?” —“Daddy, Alma won’t wake up.” —“What? Where are you? Where is your mother?” —“She’s not here. Not since Friday. I’m hungry. There’s nothing left to eat.” —“What do you mean she’s not there? Have you two been alone?” —“Yes. I don’t know what to do anymore.”
Tomás fell silent for a second, then jumped up, shoved his chair aside, grabbed his keys from the desk, and ran out without saying a word to anyone. He went down the elevator while dialing Leticia’s number. Phone off. Again. Three more times. Nothing. He got into the car, started it, and dialed again. Voicemail. —“Dammit!” Tomás drove straight to Leticia’s house. He made it in less than half an hour.
He parked aggressively, jumped out running, and pounded on the door with all his strength. —“Santiago, it’s Daddy! Open up!” Nothing. He pushed the door.
It wasn’t locked. He stepped inside. The house was in complete silence. In the living room, he found Santiago sitting on the floor hugging a pillow. His little face was dirty, his eyes were swollen, and his stomach was sunken to his spine. —“Daddy, I thought you weren’t coming.” —“Where is Alma?” Santiago pointed to the sofa.
Alma was lying there, motionless, her face pale and her lips parched. Tomás approached and touched her. She was burning with fever; she wasn’t reacting. He scooped her up instantly. —“Let’s go, fast. Don’t say anything, just come with me.” —“Is she asleep, Daddy?” —“No. But she’s going to be okay. Let’s go now!” Tomás walked out with Alma in his arms and Santiago trailing behind him. They got into the car; he turned on the hazard lights and floored it. While driving, he dialed Leticia again. Voicemail. Santiago, from the back seat, asked: —“Is Mommy angry?” Tomás gripped the steering wheel. —“No, son. Your mother is not well. But I’m going to take care of you, I promise.” —“What’s the girl’s condition?” —a nurse asked as soon as Tomás ran into the emergency room with Alma in his arms. —“How old is she?” —she asked, quickly approaching with a gurney. —“3 years old. She’s gone at least two days without eating properly.
To be continued in Part 02
Click Here : [Part 2] DADDY, MY LITTLE SISTER WON’T WAKE UP, WE HAVEN’T EATEN IN THREE DAYS!
