“I’m sorry for not telling you sooner,” Daniela said, her voice calm. “Marco’s private about his struggles, and I didn’t want to make a fuss.”
I felt the tension in my chest ease. “I’m sorry too,” I admitted. “I was worried and jumped to conclusions.”
She smiled, her eyes full of understanding. “It’s okay. We’re family now. We look out for each other.”
The officers, satisfied that there was no danger, offered a few words on communication and left. Once the door closed behind them, I turned to Daniela, still feeling my heart race but relieved.
In the following days, I welcomed Marco into our home, offering help wherever he needed it. What had begun as a frightening misunderstanding ended up strengthening our bond as a family. Every evening, as Daniela went about her routine, I felt comfort in knowing the truth behind those mysterious murmurs—and in the trust that had grown between us all.
