—Where are we going to go?
—That —I replied—, is a problem they should have thought about before opening my gate.
Julian arrived an hour later with the notary. Everything was legal. Cold. Irrevocable.
That same afternoon, I called the shelter.
“I want to make a large donation,” I told them. “And I want Hercules to be officially adopted by me… but also for the shelter to be listed as a co-owner of the house.”
The woman on the other end remained silent.
Is it safe?
—More than ever. If anything ever happens to me, this house will be for you. To save more lives like his.
That night I slept alone. For the first time, in peace.
Two days later, Laura and Esteban left. They left behind furniture, recriminations, and empty threats. I changed the locks. I closed the door. Literally and forever.
I went to look for Hercules a week later.
He walked out slowly, his leg bandaged and his head held high. When he saw me, he didn’t run. He walked with dignity. As if he knew he had survived something terrible… and had overcome it.
I knelt down as best I could.
