But something was wrong.
Very wrong.
Leticia was always loud. Bright. Full of energy. The kind of woman who laughed too hard, talked too fast, and wore bold lipstick like a signature.
But today…
She moved like a shadow.
Dressed entirely in black.
Her steps were careful. Silent.
Her eyes darted around the apartment.
When she saw Valeria on the couch, she paused.
Valeria forced her breathing to stay slow.
Steady.
As if she were deeply asleep.
After a moment, Leticia relaxed.
Then she reached into her purse.
And pulled out something small.
Wrapped in velvet.
Valeria’s chest tightened.
Leticia walked to the coat rack.
Carmen’s beige coat still hung there—left behind because the weather had warmed up.
Leticia slipped the velvet bundle into the right pocket.
Pressed it down.
Adjusted the fabric.
Then stepped back.
As if nothing had happened.
Valeria felt cold all over.
What… was that?
Then Leticia pulled out her phone.
Dialed a number.
And spoke in a low, unfamiliar voice.
“It’s done,” she said.
A pause.
“You can call the police tonight.”
Another pause.
“My foolish sister won’t suspect a thing… and we’ll be safe.”
Valeria’s heart nearly stopped.
Leticia ended the call.
Turned.
And left.
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