It was not hard enough to bruise, not yet, but it was hard enough to tell her what would come next if she stayed.
“You don’t throw my mother out,” he said.
Camila looked down at his hand, then up at his face.
“Let go of me.”
He did not.
And that was his second mistake.
The first had been hitting her.
The second was forgetting that Camila had grown up loved by people who had taught her the difference between marriage and captivity.
With her free hand, she grabbed her phone from the table and pressed the side button five times.
Emergency call.
Andrew saw the screen light up and released her arm like it had burned him.
“What are you doing?” he snapped.
“Calling the police.”
Teresa’s face went pale.
Andrew lunged for the phone, but Camila stepped back, pain shooting through her legs. The call connected.
“911, what is your emergency?”
Camila’s voice shook, but she spoke clearly.
“My husband hit me, and his mother poured boiling food on my legs. I need police and an ambulance.”
Andrew froze.
Teresa began shouting instantly. “She’s lying! She’s crazy! She burned herself!”
Camila kept her eyes on Andrew. “My address is 418 West Oak Avenue, apartment 7B, Austin, Texas.”
The dispatcher told her to stay on the line.
Andrew lowered his voice. “Camila, hang up.”
“No.”
“This will ruin everything.”
Camila almost laughed.
Everything had already been ruined. He just wanted the ruin hidden.
Teresa started crying loudly now, not from guilt but strategy. “My blood pressure, Andrew. My chest. She is trying to kill me.”
Andrew turned toward his mother automatically.
That small movement told Camila the final truth.
If both women were bleeding in front of him, he would still run to Teresa first.
Camila stepped into the hallway, leaving the apartment door open. Her neighbor, Mrs. Ellis, was already peeking out from across the hall, wearing a pink robe and holding a mug.
“Camila?” she asked. “Honey, are you okay?”
“No,” Camila said.
Mrs. Ellis saw the redness spreading across Camila’s legs, the swelling on her cheek, and the sauce dripping down her shins.
Her face hardened.
“Stay right there,” she said. “I heard the slap.”
Andrew appeared in the doorway. “This is a family issue.”
Mrs. Ellis looked at him with pure disgust. “Then your family is about to meet the police.”
Ten minutes later, the hallway was full of flashing lights.
Two officers arrived first, followed by paramedics. Andrew tried to speak over Camila. Teresa tried to faint. Mrs. Ellis told the officers exactly what she had heard: shouting, a scream, a slap, and Andrew ordering Camila to apologize.
