Before we reached the altar, my three-year-old grandson squeezed my hand and whispered, “Grandpa, she was mean to Mommy.” Then he pointed toward my future wife and pulled a USB drive from his tiny pocket—one that would soon reveal the truth she had been hiding.

I stood.

“Take Sofia to the emergency room now.”

“Victor.”

“Now.”

“Do not wait for me.”

Rosa said.

“She told me you were getting married.”

“There is no wedding.”

Silence.

Then.

“Oh.”

I looked at the locked door.

Monica knocked again.

“What about Lucas?”

I answered.

“He stays with me.”

Rosa said.

“I’m taking Sofia.”

“Call me when you arrive.”

We hung up.

PART 10