I stare at my ex-mother-in-law's house from inside Eduardo's luxury car, unable to find the courage to step out.
— They won't let me take her, I say for the third time since we pulled up to the curb.
— You won't know unless you try, Eduardo says, looking at me with a steady, encouraging gaze. — She's your daughter, Malia. You have every right to visit her and take her to see her grandparents.
— The judges don't see it that way. It was nearly impossible for my public defender to get me even one visit a month, I say, my voice trembling. I can't do this. I don't have the nerve to go in there and ask.
— Go, Malia. Unless you want to leave without her, he says.
I just shake my head, not moving an inch.
I count to three, but courage doesn't come. I tell myself that when I reach ten, I'll get out. Ten passes. Fifteen. Every agonized breath is another second ticking away.
— I'm going, I snap, acting on pure impulse. Sometimes things are easier when you don't let yourself think.
I climb out and shut the backseat door where Eduardo and I were sitting. He thought it best to bring a driver. I look at the house with its manicured lawn and white picket fence—the place where my daughter lives. I take a deep breath and head for the door, pressing the bell.
Music is playing somewhere inside. After a few minutes with no answer, I decide to walk around to the backyard. The music is louder there, coming from the pool area. As I step onto the grass, I almost smile, thinking how Victoria would want to kill me for stepping on her "perfect" lawn.
What I find is a scene I was rarely part of: a family barbecue by the pool. But it's not just family. Along with my daughter, my ex-husband, and his parents, a thin woman in a bikini is by the water, playing with my little girl.
— Honey, show her how to kick her legs, my ex-husband says to the woman.
My heart skips a beat.
Honey? After everything, the bastard is already with someone else?
— Come to Mommy, sweetie. Let's go for a swim, the woman says, reaching for my daughter.
My little girl innocently moves toward her, excited to get into the water.
I freeze. What the hell is this?
— When are you two getting married? I hear Victoria say to the woman. — It's about time I had a decent daughter-in-law, and our little girl needs a mother.
The rage that hits me is unlike anything I've ever felt.
— She doesn't need a mother. She already has one, I announce, my voice cutting through the air. Everyone looks up, stunned. — What do you think you're doing? Trying to replace me? I AM HER MOTHER! Get your hands off my daughter right now, and don't you ever refer to yourself that way again!
I lose all control, marching toward the pool to grab my baby, who is looking around in total confusion. But Henrique blocks my path before I can take another step.
— Don't you go near her. What do you think you're doing here, Malia? Get out. You've had your visit for the month, he says, grabbing my arm with a grip so tight it bruises.
— Like hell I will. I'm taking my daughter with me right now, I snarl, trying to wrench my arm free. His grip only tightens. — Let go of me, Henrique!
— Mother, call the police, Henrique says, and I see the glint of pleasure in Victoria's eyes. — You're trespassing, Malia. I'm sure this charge will help me strip your rights away for good.
— You can't do that! I'm just going to visit my parents, and I want to take Sofia to see them, I say, looking into his eyes.
He gives me a diabolical smile. He isn't going to let this happen.
— I'm her mother. I have rights!
— You want to take my daughter to see the same parents who gave you such a trashy upbringing? My daughter isn't going near people like that. And you can't take her out of the city without my permission.
— Don't do this, Henrique. I'm warning you, I hiss through my teeth.
His smile falters for a split second, then returns.
— And what are you going to do? I'm done with you. We're not even waiting for the police. We have cameras; you can leave now.
He begins to shove me back toward the gate.
— Let go of me! I scream.
— Honey, is everything okay? the woman asks, approaching us with my daughter in her arms.
Sofia smiles at me, oblivious to the war happening around her.
— Put my daughter down. Now, I growl, my blood boiling.
— You don't tell me what to do, and you certainly don't tell this little girl. You're a terrible mother; you shouldn't even be here, she says.
Her words hit me like a physical blow.
Henrique shoves me again, pulling me away.
— Let go!
— Take your hands off her, or you'll be sleeping in a cell tonight.
Eduardo's voice cuts through the chaos like a blade. Everyone freezes. Victoria, who was already on her phone, stares at him in shock. I see the woman holding my daughter stiffen in fear, but she doesn't say a word.
— Did you hear me? Let her go. Now, Eduardo repeats.
— And who the hell are you? Some lowlife she picked up? You're trespassing too, Henrique says, finally releasing my arm. He runs his hand nervously through his blonde hair.
I look at Eduardo in his expensive suit. He looks like the definition of power. Whatever "lowlife" category Henrique thinks I belong to, Eduardo clearly isn't part of it.
— What's wrong, Malia? Eduardo asks me.
— They... they won't let me take her, I say, my voice breaking.
— I see, Eduardo replies.
— Of course I'm not letting a criminal take my daughter! So whoever you are, take this slut away from my house and my child, Henrique shouts.
— Malia? Could you wait for me in the car? This might take a moment, Eduardo says, his eyes never leaving Henrique.
I notice the woman in the bikini shrink back under his gaze.
— Please, he says again.
I nod and walk away.
I knew this wouldn't work. I head back to the car, a crushing weight in my chest. They are teaching her to call another woman "mother." I let a few tears fall in the privacy of the car. I watch through the window, waiting for Eduardo to return so we can leave—without my daughter.
Five minutes pass. Suddenly, Henrique's new girlfriend practically runs out of the front door, looking like she's fleeing a crime scene. She glances at the car but doesn't see me. She disappears around the corner.
Thirty, forty, fifty minutes pass. Finally, the door opens again.
My heart stops.
Eduardo walks out with my daughter in his arms, carrying her small backpack in his free hand. Henrique follows him, livid, along with Victoria and André.
— If anything happens to my daughter, or if she tries to run off with Sofia, you'll pay the price! Henrique yells, his voice muffled by the car window.
— Don't try to threaten me, and don't talk about consequences when you can't even handle your own, Eduardo says, turning back to them one last time. — And be clear: from now on, Malia will be spending much more time with her daughter.
— But—
— There is no "but." This isn't a negotiation or something for you to argue about, Eduardo cuts him off. — I've made my decision. That's how it's going to be. Do not dare oppose me.
— Who do you think you are? Henrique steps forward, trying to stare Eduardo down.
— Someone very influential and very rich who can ruin your life. Don't test my patience.
— Son, don't argue with him here. The police are on their way, Victoria says.
Eduardo actually smiles.
— Then good afternoon. See you around.
He opens the car door, revealing me sitting inside. A wave of hateful glares hits me.
— Take her, Malia. We'll buy a car seat on the way, Eduardo says.
I obey, completely stunned.
— Edgar, stay here. Show the police whatever documents they need, Eduardo tells the driver.
Then he gets into the driver's seat himself.
I don't look back. I just stare at my baby in my lap. She's smiling at me. It takes a moment to process that I actually have her—that I'll have her for the whole weekend.
Only then do I let the tears of pure joy fall.
I hug her tight, kissing her cheeks.
— Thank you, Eduardo. I don't even know how to thank you.
— You don't have to thank me, he says, his voice firm. — You are my woman now. And just like me, everyone is going to treat you that way.