THE CALL THAT CHANGED EVERYTHING
“Daddy… Alma won’t wake up.”
The words didn’t just reach Tomás —
they shattered him.
For a second, the world around him went silent.
The expensive office… the glass walls… the city skyline…
—all meaningless.
“Where are you?” he demanded, his voice trembling despite his effort to stay calm.
“Home… Mommy isn’t here. She left Friday.”
Tomás froze.
Friday?
That was three days ago.
His grip tightened around the phone.
“You’ve been alone… all this time?”
“Yes… Daddy… I tried to wake her up… but she won’t move… and I’m really hungry…”
That last sentence hit harder than anything else.
Not fear.
Not panic.
Hunger.
His children had been starving.
Tomás didn’t remember grabbing his keys.
He didn’t remember running past his assistant, knocking over a chair, or slamming the elevator button again and again.
All he knew was this:
He had failed them.
The drive was a blur of red lights he didn’t stop for.
He called Leticia.
Once.
Twice.
Five times.
Nothing.
Straight to voicemail.
“Pick up…” he whispered, his voice breaking.
But she didn’t.
When he reached the house, something felt wrong immediately.
Too quiet.
Too still.
He didn’t even wait —
he burst through the door.
“¡Santiago!”
No answer.
His heart pounded violently.
Then…
In the living room—
A small figure.
Curled up.
Holding a pillow.
“Santiago…”
The boy looked up slowly.
His face was dirty.
Eyes swollen.
Lips cracked.
“Daddy… I thought you weren’t coming…”
Tomás dropped to his knees, pulling him into his arms.
“I’m here. I’m here now.”
“Alma is sleeping…” Santiago whispered.
Tomás turned.
And that’s when his heart stopped.
On the sofa—
Alma.
Still.
Too still.
Her tiny body didn’t move.
Her lips were pale.
Her breathing… barely noticeable.
“No… no, no, no…”
He rushed to her side, touching her forehead.
Burning.
Not warm.
Burning.
“Alma! Baby, wake up!”
No response.
Not even a twitch.
Time snapped.
Everything moved fast.
Too fast.
Tomás lifted her instantly, holding her fragile body against his chest.
“Come on, Santiago. Now. We’re leaving.”
“Is she sleeping, Daddy?” the boy asked weakly.
Tomás swallowed hard.
“No… but she will be okay. I promise.”
He didn’t know if that was true.
But he had to say it.
The car ride was chaos.
Hazard lights flashing.
Speeding through traffic.
Ignoring every rule.
Because nothing mattered except one thing:
Keeping Alma alive.
At the hospital doors, he didn’t wait.
“HELP! PLEASE!”
Doctors rushed forward.
“What’s her condition?”
“She’s three… hasn’t eaten properly for days… high fever… she won’t wake up!”
They took Alma from his arms.
And just like that—
She was gone behind those emergency doors.
Santiago grabbed Tomás’ hand.
“Daddy… is she going to die?”
Tomás looked down at him.
And for the first time in years…
The millionaire had no answer.
To be continued in Part 03
Click Here : [Part 3] DADDY, MY LITTLE SISTER WON’T WAKE UP, WE HAVEN’T EATEN IN THREE DAYS!
