That night you slide down to the marble floor again, not because you fell, but because you have nowhere else to put the regret.
Sofía asks every night, “When is Marina coming back?”
Patricia prowls the mansion like she’s already won, and you finally see how empty her victory is.
You hire your assistant to find Marina discreetly, and the update hits you like a punch.
She paused university because money ran out.
She works days as a caretaker and nights as a waitress.
She sleeps in a small rented room that smells like exhaustion.
You stare at the wall, sick with the knowledge that you let her fall alone.
So you do the first honest thing you’ve done in a long time: you choose action over image.