Graciela began reading.
Her hands started to tremble.
“One… dollar?”
Diego snatched the papers.
“This is insane!”
I looked at him calmly.
“No. It’s a consequence.”
Lucía sat beside me and took my hand.
“Everything else will go to people who truly need help,” I said. “People who don’t see their parents as an inheritance waiting to die.”
Diego’s face turned red with anger.
“You can’t do this to us!”
I looked at him steadily.
“You already did it.”
The room fell silent.
For the first time since waking from my coma, I felt something I hadn’t felt in a long time.
Peace.
Because I understood a painful but necessary truth:
