Mateo saw everything.
He watched his mother die before anyone could cover his eyes.
After that day, he stopped speaking.
No words.
Only screams.
Biting.
Throwing objects.
Breaking mirrors.
Attacking anyone who tried to touch him.
Alejandro had spent more than five million pesos on the best child psychiatrists, private therapists, imported specialists, and luxury nannies.
None of them lasted.
No one could get within six feet of Mateo without getting scratched, kicked, or hit.
Then Valeria Gómez arrived.
She was not a therapist.
She was not a nanny.
She was twenty-two years old, from a poor neighborhood in Santa Catarina, and she had taken the cleaning job because her little brother needed urgent heart surgery.
The hospital debt was already over 200,000 pesos.
Collectors called every day.
So Valeria entered the mansion through the service door, carrying a heavy bucket, wearing an oversized uniform, and keeping her eyes down.