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Then she heard it — the deep snarl of a powerful engine.
Ricardo.
The man who once promised her forever.
The man who turned away as their newborn daughter, Sofia, died in her arms.
The man who left soon after, saying she was “too damaged” to be a wife or a mother.
Now, his expression was etched with contempt.
“I can’t believe this… Emília?” he sneered. “Still living like the poor, washed-up woman I walked away from.”

The sharp, expensive scent of his cologne clashed cruelly with the mud dripping from her clothes.
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