She shak

es her head so fast it is almost violent.
“That’s enough for me,” Miguel says.
Daniel, it turns out, has heard through an old contact that his daughter’s case has drawn attention and money. He claims remorse. He claims he has changed. He claims he is ready to “be a family again.” But when Elena arrives and begins asking questions in the dry tone judges reserve for liars who mistake sentiment for evidence, his story unravels fast. No stable job. No verifiable housing. A history of unpaid child support for another child in another state. Two recent gambling charges. He wants access, perhaps even custody leverage, at the exact moment Sofia is safest and most visible.
Rain runs down the gate between him and the house like liquid bars.
Miguel steps under the awning and faces him at last.
“You do not get to reappear because the hard part is over,” he says.
Daniel tries bluster first. “That’s my daughter.”
Miguel’s reply is quiet enough to be dangerous. “A daughter is not a lottery ticket you scratch after abandoning it in a drawer.”
The man’s jaw tightens. “You think money makes you better than me?”
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