I didn’t want to look. I wanted to hate him. I wanted to see him in handcuffs.
But I turned around.
Where Alejandro had punched her, Fernanda’s belly had a deep indentation.
It wasn’t blood. It wasn’t a bruise.
It was as if someone had pressed a pillow into it.
I approached, trembling.
“Fer… let me see.”
Her eyes changed. She wasn’t crying from pain anymore. She looked at me with rage.
“Don’t touch me.”
I put my hand under the fabric of the dress.
I touched foam. Straps. Velcro.
There was no baby.
My sister wasn’t pregnant.
The patio was so quiet I could hear my mom sobbing on the phone.
Alejandro held up his cell phone.
“And that’s not the worst of it,” he said. “Tomorrow she was going to steal a newborn.”
I couldn’t believe what was about to happen…
PART 2
Fernanda crawled backward, trying to cover the fake belly, but the foam was already hanging crookedly under her blue dress.
“Don’t look at me like that,” she spat. “You don’t understand anything.”
My mom shook her head.
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