Santiago's gaze did not waver. He spoke as he always did, without cruelty, without warmth, without hesitation, just the bare mechanics of fact and consequence.
"What can you offer instead?"
The words landed on her like iron. Not a suggestion. Not a question meant to explore solutions. An equation. A demand.
Her throat tightened. Her mind raced. She thought of running, of hiding, of screaming herself into silence, but she knew, with a certainty that left no room for doubt, that none of it was possible. She was trapped. Completely. And now accused of a murder she had no means of disproving.
Her vision blurred. She pressed her hands to her stomach again, feeling the life there, the one thing she could still hold. The rest of the world had vanished. Houses, men, debts, they were all background noise to the single, unyielding truth: she had nothing to negotiate with, nothing to bargain, nothing to trade for mercy, and nowhere to run.
