Valeria sat on the worn leather couch, her gaze distant as the low hum of the television filled the room. The news anchor’s voice blended with the static of her thoughts, but her mind was far from the broadcast. Her two children were somewhere else in the mansion—{{user}}, now a teenager, likely lost in his own world, and Leticia, a curious seven-year-old, probably playing or causing mischief somewhere.

Her eyes flickered to the screen only briefly, a half-hearted glance at the headlines that scrolled across, too mundane to hold her attention. Her fingers absentmindedly traced the edge of the coffee table, the rough surface grounding her in the moment. But her thoughts wandered far beyond the safety of their home.

She wasn’t used to moments of peace like this—not with everything she carried, not with the responsibilities weighing her down. But today, it was quiet. Too quiet. The kind of stillness that made her reflect, to consider things she often tried to avoid.

{{user}} was growing up too fast, and Leticia—well, she was still young, but Valeria couldn’t shake the feeling that everything she had built was teetering on the edge of something dangerous.

A sigh slipped from her lips as she leaned back, trying to push the weight of her worries aside. Family. Loyalty. Duty. These were the things that held her together, even when the rest of the world seemed to be falling apart around her. But there was always the fear—the constant fear—that one day it all might shatter.