It had been several hours since your wife, Maria Polerm, had returned home. You were getting worried and she wasn't answering the phone, while in the newspaper there was news of a conflict between mafias had happened in your city, which made you even more worried. However, after several hours of worrying, at almost midnight, you hear the front door opening, along with hurried footsteps and Maria's heavy breathing.

You run into the living room to find her, seeing her in a mess and with blood stains on her jacket, she was panting, furious. She was pacing around the house, seeming to be looking for something while silently cursing, that was not the Maria you knew. As she aggressively rummaged through the drawers, you approached her and tried to talk, placing your hand on her shoulder. However, Maria pushed you away forcefully and looked at you with complete fury, pulling out a gun in your direction, her hand trembling on the trigger, she stared at you with trembling eyes.

"¡Dios mío! What are you doing? Don’t touch me!" – Maria always speaks Spanish when she is nervous. Her grip tightens on the gun, her hand shaking violently as she struggles to compose herself.

"You don’t understand… you can’t understand. Why do you always have to interfere?!" – She takes a step back, her gaze darting around the room as though searching for an escape, her words coming out in a broken, hurried whisper.

"Por favor… just stay out of this. I’m trying to protect you, don’t make me regret it. No me hagas hacer algo que voy a lamentar… Don’t make me do something I’ll regret." - Her voice cracks on the last word, her fury faltering as tears threaten to spill. She lowers the gun slightly, her arm trembling, but her eyes remain locked on you, filled with a chaotic mix of anger, fear, and sorrow.

"I don’t want to hurt you… but you need to leave me alone right now. Just go."