Page 121 of Hidden Memories

The words hit harder than I expect. They remind me of all the times I’ve been put in my place—told to sit back, tobe the support, never the leader. But then Theo’s laughter comes up the path toward the yard, the hum of a lighthearted conversation between him and Luis. My son’s voice is innocent and pure, lifting the heaviness of the moment. My resolve shifts. He only has one mother.

Gabriel instructs Santi one last time while packing up his things. “Make sure you tell security on the ranch to be on high alert. We’re not taking any chances.”

I hate the fear that wraps itself around my chest like a vise, squeezing tighter with every passing second.

But the distant sound of laughter saves me from my spiraling thoughts. I glance toward the muck heap, where Theo is crouched beside Luis, who digs out a huge chunk of muck, throws down the shovel then crouches down, too. Both of them are engrossed in their makeshift treasure hunt. Luis holds a glass jam jar, dropping wriggling red worms inside while Theo bounces on the balls of his feet, excitement radiating off him.

Theo’s face lights up, then he dives his fingers into the mucky soil. “Gotcha!” he exclaims.

His laugh is infectious, so pure it momentarily drowns out the shadows lingering at the edges of my thoughts.

“Look, Mom!” Theo calls out, his small hand clutching something triumphantly. “We’re going to measure it later, but this could be a world record. Have you ever seen a worm this long?”

I laugh softly, walking over to join them. “Are you sure it’s not a snake?” I tease, crouching beside him.

Theo’s eyes widen, half delighted and half horrified. “Mom! Snakes don’t live in muck heaps!”

His face glows with wonder and joy, and for a moment, I’m reminded of how rare this sight has become. The weight he’s carried, the questions he’s asked—thingsno ten-year-old should have to endure. Yet here he is, happy, free. It fills me with equal parts pride and heartbreak.

He deserves this—a life untouched by the shadows of Nic’s choices. A childhood filled with moments like these, not the fear and uncertainty that’s dogged us for so long. A determination grips me. Whatever it takes, I’ll make sure he keeps his spirit. Theo deserves a mother who fights for his light, not one who gets swallowed by her fears. I owe him that much—and more.

Luis chuckles. It’s a balm against the tension knotted in my chest. “Kid’s got a good eye.”

He hands Theo the jar.

My son’s features brim with curiosity as he observes the twisting critters.

“Hey,” Santi arrives at Theo’s side. He bends down and points at the jar. “What will you do with these? Fishing?”

“I don’t want to kill them.” My son scrunches his nose. “Papa Luis says compost worms are superheroes for plants. We’re putting them in his garden.”

Papa Luis?They’ve bonded. There’s trust there. My heart swells to the point of aching.

Luis clears his throat, a faint flush coloring his tan cheeks. “I hope you don’t mind me giving the name,” he says, hesitant. “It’s just… Theo was calling me Mr. Luis, and it felt too formal. My grandson calls me Papa Luis, so I thought—well, I hope that’s all right.”

His shy tone brings a lump to my throat. The way he’s embraced us, made Theo feel like part of his family… It’s overwhelming in the best way. Luis didn’t have to step into this role, but he did—without expectation. His quiet strength and unwavering kindness are an anchor. He doesn’t need to say much; his actions do all the talking.

“That’s sweet,” I manage through the sting in the bridge of my nose. “Thank you.”

This is about so much more than names. Not just for Theo, but for Santi, too. It means our time here in Echo Valley isn’t just some passing moment—it’s something settling into place, something real.

Theo glances at me for confirmation. “There are a bunch of heaps around. Can Papa Luis and I check out some more before studying?”

I nod, brushing a hand against his cheek. “Of course, honey. Go on, have fun.”

As Luis leads Theo away, their comfortable conversation floating back toward me, a sense of calm settles over me, fragile but real.

Santi watches them, too, with an expression I can’t quite place—pride, maybe, nostalgia, or hope.

“Now that is what life is about,” he says, his words laced with something deeper.

We share this moment. It’s as if the rest of the world falls away. I think of the dreams we once shared, the way he’s stepped into a role he never asked for but has embraced so fully.

“I hope we can bring all this drama to an end before Theo feels it,” I sigh. “It’s been a rare sight to see him this way. Just…” My heart crumples with both happiness and melancholy. “…a kid.”

Santi reaches out. “We will. Trust me.”

I lean into his touch, letting myself believe him. But as the sun rises higher, bathing the ranch in light, a flicker of unease stirs in my chest. I push it aside, focusing instead on heading back to the barn. I won’t be going on a ride today. But grooming a horse does wonders for the nerves, too.

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