Julian looked from his weeping, pregnant wife to the woman who had raised him.

The hard, remorseless look on Doña Carmen’s face tore down every last childhood illusion he’d ever carried.

His mother wasn’t a protective matriarch. She was a cruel, manipulative tyrant who had used his love and his absence to terrorize a vulnerable woman.

Slowly, Julian stood up. He walked to the nightstand, picked up his phone, and dialed a number.

Doña Carmen sneered. “Who are you calling? Your brothers? Go ahead, tell them. They’ll tell you a mother always knows best.”

Julian didn’t look at her. He spoke clearly into the phone. “Yes, I need an emergency ambulance to the Portales neighborhood. My pregnant wife has been badly assaulted.”