Ana had never been a rebel. She was always the exemplary daughter, the one who followed the rules, the one who said "yes" even when she wanted to scream "no." But that night... that night was different.
She had escaped the engagement dinner her parents organized with the son of some important business partners. A perfect man on paper, but one who didn't awaken anything in her. Tired of being the obedient doll, she let herself be dragged by her best friend to a party at a fancy hotel in the city. She was only thinking of forgetting for a few hours the weight of other people's decisions.
The lights were dim, the music vibrated in her chest, and the drinks quickly piled up. She didn't even know how she ended up at the bar, laughing with a stranger with intense eyes and a dangerous smile. He didn't ask her name, and she didn't ask his either. She just felt that, for the first time, she could breathe.
The last thing she remembered clearly was his deep voice whispering in her ear and the warmth of a hand taking hers. Then... a void. A blink. And then, the next morning.
The sun filtered through the curtains of a hotel room she didn't recognize. The sheets were soft, the bed huge... and she, alone. Her dress was on the floor, her heels by the door, and her heart was pounding with a mixture of fear and confusion. She didn't remember how she had gotten there. She didn't remember if anything had happened... although her body said yes.
She dressed quickly, leaving behind that room, that night... and the man whose name she never knew. Ana thought that this would remain as just another mistake in her life. She didn't know that that night, in silence, had marked the beginning of a destiny impossible to avoid.
She went down in the elevator with flushed cheeks, wishing not to run into anyone. Each step felt like an echo of what she had done, even though she couldn't even name it. Her mind tried to reconstruct the pieces, but it was like looking through fogged glass. She remembered fragments: laughter, the taste of wine, the warmth of a hand on her waist... and a gaze that disarmed her.
When she left the hotel, the fresh morning air hit her face. She closed her eyes for a second, wishing it was all a nightmare. But it wasn't.
Things got worse when she got home. Her mother was waiting for her in the living room, with pursed lips and a look full of disappointment. Her father, sitting in silence, looked at her as if he didn't know her.
"Where were you last night?" her mother asked in a firm voice.
"I wasn't feeling well, I went to sleep," Ana lied, without looking them in the eyes.
"Sleep? At whose house?" her father snapped, crossing his arms.
Ana froze. Apparently, they already knew.
"It doesn't matter. It was just one night. I didn't..."
"One night?!" her mother interrupted, raising her voice for the first time. "You were going to get engaged to the son of the Morales, Ana! And you... you decide to go and wallow with a stranger!"
The words were like slaps. Ana felt the tears welling up in her eyes, but she forced herself to hold them back. She wouldn't give them that power.
"I don't love him. I never loved him," she said in a trembling voice.
"Love has nothing to do with this!" her father shouted. "It was about the future of this family. Your future."
An uncomfortable silence settled in. Ana pursed her lips, with pride as her only shield.
"Then I guess there's no place for me in this family anymore," she murmured.
It was her mother who spoke this time, with a coldness that made her shudder.
"You're right. That's why you're going to the United States. We've already made arrangements for you to study there. It will be best for everyone."
Days later, Ana boarded a plane with a suitcase full of clothes and an empty heart. They had taken everything from her: her voice, her place, her right to be wrong. But there, in a country where no one knew her, at least she would have the freedom to start over.
She didn't suspect, however, that she wasn't alone. That within her, two tiny hearts were already beating. And that this bond, as deep as it was invisible, would soon force her to face her past.
A past with a name, a face... and power.
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