He held his gaze with such a hard calm that the other hesitated.
At that moment the paramedics entered.
One woman and two men.
They brought the equipment and the haste of someone who already knows they are late.
—Female patient, unconscious, weak pulse—Alexander said, stepping back just far enough.
The paramedic leaned over the bed.
He checked pupils.
Pulse.
Breathing.
He looked at the stained sheet.
And his expression changed.
—I need a stretcher now. Right now.
The other two acted immediately.
Lucia began to sob so loudly that she could barely stand.
“Is he going to die?” he asked.
No one answered him right away.
Because everyone was fighting against that possibility.
While they were preparing the woman, the paramedic lifted her hospital wristband slightly and frowned.
—She was discharged five days ago after a high-risk delivery… who checked on her afterward?
Silence.
He looked at the man.
—Are you the husband?
-Yeah.
—Why didn’t you take her back to the hospital when she started bleeding?
He stood up.
—Because they exaggerate everything. She was always weak.
The paramedic looked at him with a clean, professional disdain.
“She wasn’t weak. She’s in septic or hemorrhagic shock, and she may be like this because someone decided to let her rot in a bed.”
The words struck the room.
Lucia covered her mouth.
Alejandro, who didn’t usually feel hatred so quickly, felt it.
Cold.
Exact.
The paramedics lifted the stretcher.
The woman let out a very faint sound.
Barely a groan.
But Lucia heard it.
He ran alongside her.
—Mom! Mom, I’m here!
The woman’s eyelids trembled.
Just a little.
Enough to show that he was still fighting.
“We need to move now,” said the paramedic.
She looked at the babies.
—Who gets to keep them?
The man stepped back.
—I can’t. I have a job.
He didn’t even pretend.
He didn’t even try.
Lucia looked at him as if she had just confirmed the worst truth in the world.
“They’re your children…” she whispered.
He didn’t even look at her.
—Don’t get me into trouble.
Alejandro took out his wallet again, but not to pay.
He took out a black card.
She showed it to the paramedic.
—Transfer her to the Santa Elena Private Hospital. I’ll cover everything. Neonatology, surgery, whatever she needs.
The paramedic blinked.
—Sir, the patient is in serious condition. That transfer…
—I’ll take care of it. But it’s already moving.
The man stepped forward.
—No. It’s not going to any private firm. I’m not signing anything.
Alejandro finally turned towards him.
And he spoke with a gentleness that was more frightening than a scream.
—You’re not going to decide anything tonight.
—And who’s going to stop me?
-I.
There was a second of brutal tension.
Then the paramedic said, dryly:
—If you interfere, I’ll call the police and report negligence and obstetric violence. The choice is yours.
That time he did back down.
Out of cowardice.
Not out of conscience.
They carried the stretcher out in the rain.
Lucía followed behind, crying, with empty arms and a distraught look.
Then Alexander saw the following problem.
The twins.
The girl looked at the cardboard box and then at the ambulance.
Her face said the impossible: she wanted to run with her mother, but she couldn’t abandon the babies.
Alejandro made a decision without thinking twice.
—I’ll take the children. You get in with her.
Lucia looked at him suspiciously, terrified, as if even the help had a hidden price.
It was logical.
By that age he had already learned that he had almost everything in the world.
“I give you my word,” he said. “I’m not going to separate you from them.”
The girl swallowed.
He nodded.
The paramedics received Lucia in the ambulance.
Alejandro wrapped the babies in the least damp blankets he could find, picked up the box, and went out into the storm.
As he passed by the man, the man murmured:
—He doesn’t know what he’s getting himself into.
Alejandro barely stopped.
—I know it better than you can imagine.
He left it behind.
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