The echo of laughter and conversation faded behind her as Amelia crossed the threshold of the mansion, but her time had already run out. There was no time for elaborate farewells; every second weighed on her like an outstanding promise.

It was already past three in the afternoon, and she needed to free herself from that sham of a luncheon as soon as possible.

She only hoped these would be her last jobs as a social escort, because in two weeks she would graduate as a network engineer, and she hoped to find a good job.

Although she had saved enough to be able to reclaim her little girl, she wanted to have financial stability to avoid ever going through the misery she had endured before.

She bid the businessman farewell with a slight nod.

"It has been a lovely experience," she told the man with a polite smile that barely touched her eyes, those mirrors of the soul where a barely contained anxiety danced. "But I must go now."

"Of course, Amelia. Thank you for... simplifying things. If you ever need anything from me, don't hesitate to call," he replied, a shadow of gratitude in his voice as he handed her a card, which she slipped into her purse.

She gave him one last courteous glance before turning on her heel, the hem of her dress creating a soft arc behind her.

Once out on the street, the cool air caressed her face, freeing her from the mask of serenity she had maintained for hours. Her hand trembled slightly as she hailed a taxi, her heart hammering against her ribs.

"To the Sor Juana Inés Orphanage, please," she instructed the driver firmly after closing the vehicle door.

As the taxi came to life and glided through the busy city streets, Amelia rested her forehead against the cool glass of the window, letting the image of her daughter fill every empty space in her mind.

She was terribly anxious; she had told her she would be there at three-thirty, and though she was small and perhaps had no real concept of time, she was also very intelligent.

During those four years she had been there for her little girl, volunteering at the orphanage simply to be by her side. She planned to speak with the director of the orphanage to see what the process was, if she could adopt, and ultimately legally reclaim the girl as her biological mother.

In her chest, determination burned with the force of an unyielding oath, and hope was reflected in her eyes.

She arrived at the orphanage and looked around. Seeing two little girls playing, she asked them about her daughter.

"Hello, sweethearts, have you seen Anaís?" she asked, unable to contain her anxiety.

"Hello, Miss Amelia. I don't think she's here. A very elegant gentleman with very luxurious cars took her away. Anaís told us he was her new father; she said his name was Valente, or something like that, I don't remember well."

When Amelia heard those words, fear gripped her heart, as if a giant hand had squeezed it. An icy chill ran down her spine as her mind processed the information. An elegant gentleman? A luxurious car? It couldn't be true.

"When did they take her?" Amelia asked in a trembling voice, struggling to maintain her composure in front of the children.

"About an hour ago, miss," one of them replied, oblivious to the torment her words caused.

Desperation seized her like never before, because during all those years she had never been away from her. Despite having left her there, not a single day had passed without her seeing her smile.

For years she had feared someone would adopt her, but whenever she saw that someone was about to, she discouraged them just so they couldn't take her away, while she waited for her own chance to rescue her. But now, her worst nightmare had come to pass.

Panic took hold of Amelia, paralyzing her for an instant. Her mind filled with terrible images, with dark possibilities that threatened to suffocate her. Who had taken her daughter? How was it possible that someone had adopted her when she had never seen anyone around?

With trembling legs, Amelia ran through the corridors of the orphanage, her heart beating so hard it felt as though it wanted to escape her chest. She ran like a madwoman toward the director's office, ignoring the startled glances of the nuns and children she encountered along the way.

Amelia burst into the office without knocking, finding the older woman seated behind her desk.

"Where is Anaís?" Amelia demanded, her voice cracking with fear and anger. "Who took her? You can't let them take her!" she screamed desperately, her body shaking.

The director, a stern-looking woman, rose from her desk and looked at her with a mixture of surprise and confusion.

"What is the matter with you? Weren't you taught to knock on doors? Why do you burst into my office in this manner?"

Amelia took a deep breath, trying to control her desperation. Her eyes, filled with unshed tears, locked onto the director with an intensity that made the woman take a step back.

"I'm sorry," Amelia said, her voice shaking. "But I need to know where Anaís is. It's... it's important."

The director frowned, studying Amelia with a searching gaze.

"And who do you think you are to ask about one of our children?" she inquired suspiciously.

Amelia felt the ground open beneath her feet. She didn't know what to do. Could she reveal the truth without jeopardizing everything she had fought to protect? She wondered, but desperation was pushing her to the edge of the abyss.

"You know I am a volunteer... please, I need to know if Anaís was adopted. I..." the woman cut her off before she could finish.

"And why is that any of your business? You have no rights over her," the director spat, her voice cold as ice. "Adoptions are confidential, and you have no authority to interfere."

Amelia felt her heart tearing apart. Every second that passed without knowing about Anaís was an unbearable torture. With a superhuman effort, she managed to keep her composure.

"Please," she pleaded, her voice barely a whisper. "That girl... she is special to me. I need to know who took her, if she is safe," she said, her eyes flooding with tears.

The director watched her with a mixture of irritation and curiosity. Something in Amelia's desperation seemed to have moved her, if only slightly.

"Miss Delgado," she said finally, her tone softer but still firm. "I understand your concern, but there are rules we must follow. I cannot disclose information about Anaís or her potential adoption to you. I have already told you that this is none of your concern."

The young woman could no longer keep hiding the truth that was consuming her and clawing at her throat.

"It is my concern! I have every right in the world!" Amelia burst into tears, unable to contain herself any longer. "Because I am her mother!"