The young woman’s name was Valeria Torres.
She was twenty-eight years old.
She had arrived at the hospital alone.
She had no husband.
There were no relatives.
There wasn’t even an emergency contact in her file.
She had faced a pregnancy completely alone for seven months.
She worked long hours in a soup kitchen to pay the rent and prepare for her son’s arrival.
The baby’s father had disappeared when he heard the news.
He just left.
He promised to call.
He never did.
Ricardo looked at the medical records and then looked up.
“I have to ask you something,” he said cautiously. What is the baby’s father’s name?
Valeria stiffened.
“Why?”
“Because I need to know.”
After a few seconds of silence, she replied:
“His name is Mateo.”
Ricardo closed his eyes.
“Mateo Mendoza?”
Valeria was paralyzed.
He had never mentioned his last name.
“How do you know?”
The doctor took a deep breath.
And spoke a few words that left the room in absolute silence.
“Because Mateo is my son.”
An unexpected revelation
Valeria felt the world stop.
For months, she had believed that Mateo had simply decided to abandon her.
Now she discovered she was standing before the man’s father.
“When I told him I was pregnant, he left,” she explained, tears streaming down her face. He said he needed time to think. He never came back.
Ricardo looked down.
“I’m sorry.”
“Where is he?” he asked. If he’s your son, where is he?
It took several seconds before the doctor answered.
“I don’t know.”
“What do you mean, you don’t know?”
“I haven’t seen him in seven months.”
Valeria was completely surprised.
The missing brother
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