As Pablo wheeled Romero through the dim hospital corridors and into the car, Romero’s thoughts raced with the events of the day. He hadn’t been able to shake the gnawing sense of vulnerability, a feeling he despised. But it wasn’t just about him; it was about Carmen. Her life was now entangled in his, and as much as he tried to shield her, he realized how close to the edge she stood, unaware of the darkness circling around her.
The drive back home was silent. Pablo didn’t push him for conversation, sensing Romero’s preoccupation. When they arrived at the house, Pablo helped him out of the car, but Romero quickly brushed off any further assistance, maneuvering his wheelchair toward his room with a resolve that bordered on stubbornness.