“My daughter-in-law is in the bathroom with a man! Please, you must come quickly!” The words left my mouth before I could think, trembling with panic as I spoke to the dispatcher. My hand shook so violently that I could barely hold the phone. Fear, anger, and confusion swirled inside me in equal measure. Could I have been so wrong about Daniela? Was my son, Leonardo, being betrayed under his own roof?
The dispatcher’s calm voice barely registered in my ears as I hung up and stood outside the bathroom door, my pulse thundering in my chest. I could hear faint noises—voices, movement—and my imagination painted the worst possible picture. Each passing second felt like an eternity.
Finally, the sound of sirens sliced through the night, and I rushed to the front door to meet the arriving officers. My explanation came out in hurried fragments, words tumbling over each other as I guided them through the house. The officers exchanged wary glances but followed me nonetheless, their professionalism keeping the situation under control.
They stopped outside the bathroom, hands poised, ready for confrontation. “Police! Open up!” one officer called sharply.
A pause. Then the sound of the lock turning.
The door creaked open to reveal Daniela—alone. Her face was etched with confusion and alarm, her wide eyes darting between me and the officers. “What’s going on?” she asked, her tone wavering between shock and disbelief.
I blinked in confusion, looking past her into the small, tiled room. Empty. No signs of anyone else. No clothes strewn about, no shadow of movement—just steam curling from the bath and the faint scent of lavender oils. My heart raced with disorientation. I was sure I’d heard a man’s voice. Had my mind deceived me?
Daniela’s expression softened as she took a slow breath. “I can explain,” she said gently. “Please, come in.”