“Don’t throw a tantrum anymore.” Your daddy is going to come and see what kind of girl you are.

The screams came from the second floor of the residence.

Paloma stopped at the back door listening to a little girl cry desperately.

“Nobody can stand you anymore. Stay there crying until you learn.

A door slammed hard.

“Oh, don’t stain. “What a situation,” murmured Carmen, the employee who received Paloma.
The landlady is nervous again.

“Which patroness?”

“Doña Verónica, the girl’s stepmother.

More screams from the girl echoed through the house.

“And where is the father?”
“Traveling, always traveling,” Carmen shook her head. Look, my dear, I’m warning you: this job is not easy at all.

Paloma ran up the stairs, following the sound of crying.
In the hallway, a blonde, elegant woman was coming out of one of the rooms, slamming the door behind her.

“You must be the new maid.
Veronica fixed her hair trying to look calm.

“That’s good, because I need to get out. The girl is throwing a tantrum. When it stops, you can start the work. The girl is fine, she’s fine. He’s just making drama, as always.

Veronica quickly went downstairs, grabbed her bag, and walked out.

The crying continued to come from the room.
Paloma knocked on the door.

“Hello, little girl, can I come in?”

The crying subsided a little.

“I’m not going to scold you, I promise.

He opened the door slowly.
A little brown-haired girl was sitting on the floor, hugging her own legs, her face wet with tears, little eyes swollen.

“Hello, sweetheart, what’s your name?”

The girl looked at her suspiciously.

“Camila.

“Camila… What a beautiful name. I am Paloma. Why were you crying?

Camila pointed to her belly.

“It hurts.
“Are you hungry?”

The girl nodded.

“What time did you eat?”
“I didn’t eat.

Paloma looked at her watch: 1 p.m.

“You didn’t have breakfast?”
“Veronica forgot… he forgot.

“How can someone forget to give food to a girl?” Come, let’s find something rich for you.

Camila hesitated, but took Paloma’s hand.

Three weeks passed. From that first meeting, Paloma became the only person capable of making Camila smile. The girl began to talk, to eat better, and to sleep without fear. But one afternoon, while folding laundry in the main room, Paloma found something among the drawers of Veronica’s dresser: a bottle of sleeping pills… and a hidden phone, full of deleted messages.

One of the messages read:

“When he signs the insurance papers, we’re leaving. No one will suspect anything.”

The sender was Sergio, the personal assistant of Mr. Eduardo Álvarez, the millionaire owner of the house… and father of Camila.
Paloma’s heart raced. It was not only child abuse, but a conspiracy to keep the businessman’s fortune.

That night, while Veronica was sleeping, Paloma connected the phone to the computer and sent all the information to an address she found in the address book: [email protected].

Three days later, the mansion woke up surrounded by patrol cars.
Eduardo had returned from his trip unannounced, with the police and his lawyers. Veronica tried to feign innocence, but the messages, the videos from the cameras, and Paloma’s testimony were enough.

“You don’t know what you’re doing, Eduardo!” Veronica shouted as she was led away in handcuffs.
“Yes, Veronica,” he replied coldly. I finally know what you did.

Camila ran to Paloma, trembling. Eduardo looked at her with suppressed tears.
“My daughter… did she treat you well?”
Paloma knelt down and stroked the girl’s hair.
“She just needed love.

Eduardo was silent for a few seconds. Then, in front of everyone, he said:
“Paloma, you stay.” Not as an employee… but as someone who saved the most valuable thing I have.

Months later, the story became news.
The former maid who had uncovered the plot was appointed director of the “Luz de Camila” foundation, dedicated to protecting child victims of abuse.
And every afternoon, in the garden of the huge residence, Eduardo and Paloma could be seen playing with Camila, who laughed freely, under the sun, without fear.