Amelia watched as her baby was taken inside. Tears rolled down her cheeks, and memories of the past battered her mind like a storm.

She remembered that day when everything fell apart. Her father had dropped her off at the entrance of the club where the graduation party was being held.

"When you're ready, call me to pick you up," he had said before driving away.

Upon entering, Amelia felt every eye turn toward her. She heard whispers, a mixture of admiration and envy. She made her way through the crowd until she reached her table.

Manuela Sarmiento greeted her with a smile that didn't reach her eyes, but Amelia didn't notice. She thought they were friends, though Manuela's gaze hid jealousy and anger toward her.

The girl, feigning friendliness, offered her a glass filled with an amber liquid. Amelia looked at it with suspicion, thought for a moment, and shook her head, because she had essentially gone alone and didn't think it was wise to drink and lose awareness of her surroundings.

"I'm sorry, I'm not drinking tonight," she said politely.

The others looked at her with disapproval, sending a shiver down her spine.

The music began to play, and someone asked her to dance. Amelia accepted, happy to move to the rhythm, completely unaware of what lay ahead.

While she danced, Manuela watched her with eyes full of malice. When Amelia walked away from the dance floor, Manuela leaned in toward her friends and whispered:

"This has to go perfectly. Harry, you handle the lights, just long enough. Joan, Giulio, and Jonás, make sure she ends up in the bathroom."

Amelia, oblivious to it all, kept enjoying herself. She laughed, moving gracefully, until she decided to take a break.

Upon returning to her seat, she felt a chill. Something was wrong, but she couldn't identify what. As she reached the table, darkness suddenly blanketed the room.

She froze. A cloth covered her mouth, stifling her screams, and strong hands pinned her down. They dragged her to the bathroom. When the lights came back on, she found herself surrounded by three boys and two girls with malicious intent written all over their faces.

"What are you doing?" Amelia whispered, terrified. "What do you want?"

Manuela, whom Amelia considered her friend, approached and looked at her with contempt.

"We're going to teach you a lesson in humility," she spat with venom. "Let everyone see that you're not so perfect after all. You always want to show off your grades, being an athlete, being beautiful, being the best... but no more!"

They held her down, one on each arm, while two others forced her legs apart, and she couldn't even scream because they had taped her mouth shut.

A shiver of horror overcame Amelia as they stripped away her clothes, terror clawing at her throat. She imagined the worst, as tears began to stream down her cheeks.

And so it was, as Manuela brandished a syringe with a predatory smile, making her monstrous intentions clear, while Amelia's muffled scream escaped as a low whimper, closing her eyes, her face bathed in tears.

Pain pierced through her as they injected something inside her. Her world, once filled with warm radiance, respect, and admiration, had plunged into an abyss of nightmare, betrayal, and pain, as they left her lying on the bathroom floor, consumed by agony.

Three months later, Amelia was in the doctor's office, suffering from constant nausea. She feared she had some grave illness. When the doctor gave her the results, her life fell apart.

"What's wrong with me, doctor? An illness? Am I going to be okay?" she asked, her voice trembling.

The answer fell upon Amelia like a prison sentence.

"Of course you're going to be fine. You're just pregnant."

"Pregnant?" Amelia repeated, incredulous. She remembered the party and the injection. It couldn't be true, but it was.

Upon returning home, her parents were sitting with her siblings talking in the living room; however, she tripped, and her bag slipped from her trembling hands. Its contents scattered across the floor.

Her father got up to help her clean up when he found the envelope.

"What is this?"

With eyes overflowing with hot, stinging tears, Amelia watched helplessly as her father's fingers pinched the paper and lifted it with the precision of a man accustomed to control, and when she didn't answer, he insisted.

"What does this mean?" he asked, pinning her with his piercing gaze.

A sob rose in her throat, raw and desperate.

"I'm pregnant," she confessed, her voice barely a whisper against the storm of emotions brewing inside her, her eyes welling with tears.

Her parents' reaction was immediate and ruthless.

"Who got you pregnant?" they asked in unison.

"I don't know..." Amelia replied, her voice choked with sobs. "I don't know how it happened..."

Her father's fury erupted like a volcano suddenly roaring to life. He walked toward her, the distance closing in heartbeats. With a swift, lightning-fast strike, his hand connected with her cheek, sending her falling backward onto one of the pieces of furniture.

"You're nothing but a whore!" he spat, poison in every syllable. "I will not be the laughingstock of the town! Pack your things and get out of this house."

Amelia reached out her hand, a plea forming on her bruised lips, searching for any trace of compassion in the man who had once held her with tender care.

But the father she knew had vanished, replaced by this unyielding, cruel stranger.

"Dad, please... Mom." The girl's voice trembled.

"You heard your father!" her mother said, turning her back to her in a final, crushing rejection. "Pack your things, because you are no longer wanted in this house."

In that moment, Amelia, alone, pregnant, and utterly unsupported, watched her perfect world shatter as sadness and pain closed in around her. Now, there she was, leaving her daughter behind at that orphanage because she had no other choice. Yet, in silence, she promised she would return for her. She would see her day after day and get her back, even if it cost her life. I swear it! she told herself, certain she would keep that promise.