Chapter 13 - THE COURTROOM
The courtroom was full.
Journalists waited outside.
My company’s name was everywhere.
For once, I didn’t care.
Beatriz sat across the room in a dark blue suit.
No silk robe.
No cocktail.
No smile.
But she still looked composed.
Her lawyer argued that she had been overwhelmed by parental responsibility.
That Isabella’s chores had been “misinterpreted.”
That the locked bedroom had been a safety measure.
Then he attacked me.
“Mr. Navarro spent nearly two hundred days outside Spain in the previous year.”
“That’s correct.”
“You left parenting responsibilities to your wife.”
“Yes.”
“And now you wish the court to believe you were an attentive father?”
“No.”
The lawyer paused.
I continued.
“I was not attentive enough.”
Beatriz looked at me.
“I worked too much.”
The courtroom went quiet.
“I thought paying for everything meant providing everything.”
I looked toward the judge.
“I was wrong.”
Her lawyer smiled.
“So you admit neglect.”
“I admit absence.”
I looked directly at Beatriz.
“But absence did not make her abuse acceptable.”
The smile disappeared.
Sofia introduced the medical photographs.
The notebook.
The recovered videos.
The forged documents.
Then audio from Beatriz’s phone call.
Her own voice filled the courtroom.
She works like a maid now, and her idiot father doesn’t even know it.
Beatriz stared at the desk.
Then Isabella’s recorded child-specialist interview was played privately to the judge.
I was not allowed to watch.
I was glad.
I had heard enough of what my daughter endured.
After two hours, the judge returned.
Emergency full custody granted to me.
No visitation for Beatriz pending the criminal case.
I closed my eyes.
It was the first time in weeks I could breathe.
But as police escorted Beatriz away, she stopped beside me.
“You think she’ll forget?”
I stared at her.
“No.”
“Good.”
Her voice softened.
“Because neither will you.”
I didn’t answer.
Then she said one final thing.
“You still don’t know why I hated that bracelet.”
My stomach tightened.
My mother’s bracelet.
“What are you talking about?”
Beatriz smiled.
“Ask your sister.”
Then she was gone.
That evening, I called Lucia.
She went silent when I mentioned the bracelet.
“Gabriel…”
“What?”
“There’s something Mom never told you.”
“What?”
Lucia sighed.
“That bracelet wasn’t just jewelry.”
My heart started beating faster.
May you like
“What was it?”
“Proof.”
