Laura stood in the middle of the small room, unable to move.
The contrast with his world was brutal.
The walls had cracks.
The furniture was old.
The air smelled of cheap medicine and dampness.
Carlos ran towards the sofa where his wife lay.
“Maria!” he whispered, gently shaking her. “Maria, wake up.”
The children watched with frightened eyes.
The baby kept crying.
Laura felt something strange in her chest.
Discomfort.
But also… guilt.
“What’s wrong with him?” he finally asked.
Carlos looked up.
Her eyes were filled with exhaustion.
—Kidney failure— she said quietly. —She needs dialysis three times a week.
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