One question from Luca exposed the only person in the room who wanted him dead.

Leonor dropped the bottle back onto the mahogany dresser. The glass clinked against the wood, a sharp, nervous sound that echoed loudly in the quiet nursery.

"I run this household," Leonor said, her voice rising to cover the tremor in her hands. "Every blanket, every garment, every drop of soap used in this nursery is purchased under my direct supervision. Are you accusing me of poisoning my own grandson?"

"I am asking who handled the laundering," Sofía replied calmly, not breaking eye contact. "The specialists tested for infections, for internal diseases, for rare metabolic disorders. None of them suspected contact dermatitis or a systemic reaction to chemical additives because the reaction was sustained by his everyday environment."

Nicolás stepped between them, his towering frame casting a shadow over his mother. His gray eyes were cold, fixed on Leonor with a scrutiny that made the older woman step back.

"Answer the nurse, Mother," Nicolás said, his voice dangerously low. "Who brought these specific products into the nursery?"

"The staff," Leonor snapped, though her gaze darted toward the door. "The maids handle the washing. I simply approve the budget."

"No," Valeria said, stepping forward. Her voice was thin, but it carried a sharp certainty. "No, Leonor. You insisted on personally overseeing Mateo’s wardrobe. You told me the standard staff lacked the refinement to handle imported silks."

Leonor’s face flushed. "I wanted only the best for the heir of the Velasco family! If a cheap hospital nurse wants to blame European craftsmanship for a common rash, she is simply projecting her own ignorance."

Sofía did not argue. She reached into her medical bag, pulled out a small sterile swab, and gently brushed it along the rim of the German fabric conditioner bottle, sealing it inside a plastic evidence pouch.

Nicolás watched her every movement. "What are you doing?"

"Preserving the sample," Sofía said. "If the dermatologist confirms the reaction, we will need to test the exact chemical composition against Mateo’s blood panel. But for now, the source is out of this room."

Mateo stirred against Sofía's chest, letting out a soft sigh as his breathing remained deep and steady.

Nicolás turned to his mother. "Leave."

"Nicolás—"

"I said, leave." The command left no room for argument.

Leonor gathered her dignity, her chin held high as she swept past them. But as she reached the doorway, she cast one final, venomous look at Sofía. It was a look that promised retaliation.

Once the door clicked shut, Nicolás turned back to Sofía. "How long will he sleep?"

"At least a few hours, provided the air in the room remains clear of lingering aerosols. Open the balcony doors. Let the breeze flush out the rest of the chemicals."

Nicolás moved immediately, sliding the heavy glass doors open to let in the cool afternoon air of Bosques de las Lomas.

Valeria sank into the armchair, burying her face in her hands. "How could I not see it? I held him every day. I dressed him. I thought... I thought I was hurting him by holding him too tight."

Sofía knelt beside the chair, placing a gentle hand on Valeria’s trembling shoulder. "You were exhausted. When a mother is pushed past her limits, her mind tells her to trust the people running the household. You didn't cause this."

Nicolás stood by the balcony, watching them. The harsh lines of his face softened slightly. He reached into his suit jacket, pulled out a gold-plated cardholder, and extended it toward Sofía.

"Name your price," Nicolás said. "Double what the General Hospital pays you. Triple. Relocate here. You are Mateo's private nurse effective immediately."

Sofía stood up, looking at the cardholder before meeting his gaze. She did not take it.

"I am a public hospital nurse, Mr. Velasco. My patients are people who wait twelve hours on wooden benches for a five-minute consultation. They need me more than a billionaire’s infant needs a live-in attendant, especially now that the source of his illness has been removed."

Nicolás's eyes narrowed. No one turned down money from a Velasco.

"You think this is about charity?" Nicolás asked, his voice hardening. "My son nearly died. I don't care about your public clinic. I buy what I need."

"You can buy a shipping fleet, Mr. Velasco. You can buy politicians and hospital wings," Sofía said, her voice steady and unyielding. "You cannot buy my integrity."

Valeria looked up, surprised, while Nicolás stared at Sofía as if she were a creature he had never encountered before.

Before Nicolás could reply, a sharp knock echoed on the door. Don Esteban entered, looking pale.

"Sir," the butler said, lowering his head. "There is a visitor downstairs. A man representing the pharmaceutical import company that supplied the nursery products. He says he needs to speak with you urgently regarding a security breach in the distribution logs."