The Night She Came Back Without Warning Me

The coroner’s room at the Prosecutor’s Office smelled of disinfectant and formaldehyde, and of something older underneath that neither of them wanted to name. Mariana adjusted her latex gloves and lowered the lamp toward the table. On the steel surface lay a young woman, barely twenty-two, found three days earlier in a vacant lot outside Valverde. The sixth in four months. And the pattern could no longer be ignored, though no one yet dared say it out loud.

—The lacerations are different from the previous ones —she said, lifting a flap of skin with the forceps—. The cuts are cleaner. More controlled.

—Another one? —Renata asked, not taking her eyes off the form.

—Either another person, or the same one learning. It’s too soon to say.

Renata wrote it down in that tight, slanted handwriting of hers. Silence settled over the room again: only the hum of the refrigerator in the back and the soft squeal of the fluorescent tube. They’d been working like that for weeks, in perfect sync, like a duo that no longer needed to speak to understand each other. But between them there was something thicker than routine. Something with a name, and neither of them said it.

Camila.

Renata left on time at five, as always. And five minutes later, as if she had been waiting on the other side of the wall, Sofía appeared with two coffees in hand. She offered one to Mariana without saying a word. She had learned to read her like that, in silence. She knew when Mariana needed to be left alone and when a long look and a coffee at exactly the right temperature were enough.

—Any progress today? —Sofía asked, more out of habit than real curiosity.

—One thing. But nothing that gets us closer yet.

Sofía crossed her arms. Not physically, that mattered least of all. She crossed them inside, holding herself back. Then she stepped closer, brushed Mariana’s hair behind her ear, and whispered right against her neck:

—I’m going. I’ll be waiting for you at home. And tonight I’m not letting you sleep with your clothes on, doctor. I’m warning you.

Mariana shivered. Not in the way desire shivers, but in the way something more confused shivers, something she wasn’t ready to name. Sofía tried everything: calm, presence, the small constant gestures, and also the promise of putting her tongue between Mariana’s legs until she wiped the dead from her head. And Mariana noticed. God, did she notice. But Sofía’s calculated tenderness made her feel more trapped than loved, as if she were offering her a safe exit in exchange for a price Mariana still wasn’t sure she was willing to pay.

***

That night, in Sofía’s apartment, Mariana reviewed the latest reports with the notebook on her lap. The dim light in the living room cast shadows across the pages. It wasn’t just the victims, it was the connections between them, the threads pointing to people with power. To Restrepo, above all, though they still didn’t have direct proof. And just when she thought she’d found a clear pattern, Camila’s images came back uninvited, slipping between the names in the file. Camila naked on top of her, her cunt spread against Mariana’s mouth, her thighs trembling around her face. Mariana clenched her teeth and tried to go back to the report.

—Do you want milk in your coffee? —Sofía asked from the kitchen.

—No. Thanks.

Mariana set the notebook aside. She watched Sofía as she came into the living room with the two mugs. Sofía sat down across from her, brought her the cup, and held her gaze for a long moment before speaking.

—You’ve done impeccable work. And even if you don’t say it, I know this is eating you alive. Or I don’t know if there’s something else.

Mariana clenched her jaw. She didn’t like phrases that touched her skin from the inside.

—I’m fine.

—You’re not. And you don’t need to be. Not here.

—I know.

—You don’t have to fake it with me, Mariana. Not anymore. You’re carrying too much alone. And even if you don’t let me all the way in, I’m not leaving. —And she took her hand.

Mariana inhaled deeply. She spoke in a restrained voice, as if each word had to be pulled from somewhere very deep.

—It’s not that I don’t want to. It’s that I can’t. If I let myself feel it, it’s going to overwhelm me. And this time I can’t break, too much is at stake.

—No one is built to hold themselves together all the time. Not even you. —Sofía paused, caressing her knuckles with her thumb—. I don’t want to be just another place you run to. I want to be a space where you can rest, even for a second.

Mariana held her gaze and felt her eyes filling with tears without permission.

—I don’t know if I have a place like that inside me anymore.

—I’m here. —Sofía stood, set down the cup, and in two steps she was already on her knees between Mariana’s legs. She placed her hands on Mariana’s thighs, over the pants, and pressed slowly, sliding upward—. And if you won’t let me in through your head, let me in some other way. Even if it’s only tonight.

Mariana didn’t stop her. Not because she wanted to, but because she had no strength left to refuse anything. Sofía unbuttoned her pants unhurriedly, pulled the zipper down with her teeth, and tugged the fabric downward until Mariana was left in black panties soaked through at the crotch. She ran two fingers over the top, pressing the fabric against her cunt, and Mariana let out a low gasp, almost in shame.

—You’re already wet —Sofía murmured—. You were thinking about something, doctor. Who was it?

—Nothing —Mariana lied, biting her lip.

—Liar.

Sofía moved the fabric aside with two fingers, left Mariana’s cunt bare, shining, and buried her tongue between the folds without giving her time to react. Mariana threw her head back against the armrest of the couch and grabbed Sofía’s hair with both hands. Her tongue moved up and down the inner lips, slid into the opening of the cunt, came out again, then circled slowly around the clit. Sofía knew how to do it. She did it like someone solving a problem she had already solved many times, without hesitation, without clumsiness.

—Like that, like that, don’t stop —Mariana panted, moving her hips against Sofía’s mouth.

Sofía slid a finger into her, then two, and started fucking her slowly while still sucking her clit. The fingers went in and out with a wet, obscene sound that filled the room. Mariana felt the orgasm building low in her belly, that hot knot that coils before it explodes. Everything inside her tightened, her thighs, her cunt, her throat. She came with a stifled cry, pressing Sofía’s face to her sex, trembling all over. Sofía didn’t let go until the last spasm, until Mariana pushed her away gently, overwhelmed.

Sofía straightened up, her mouth shining, and kissed Mariana on the lips. Mariana tasted herself in that mouth, salty and thick, and her eyes filled with tears again. Not from pleasure. From something else.

—Don’t get sad now —Sofía said, wiping her chin with the back of her hand—. Not after that.

—I’m not sad —Mariana lied.

The doorbell cut them off.

Sofía stood, fixed her hair, and went to open the door. Mariana barely managed to pull her pants back up. It was Renata, punctual as always, with a folder under her arm. One look was enough for her to understand she had arrived in the middle of something. Her eyes went straight to Mariana’s, to that shine just before tears fall, to the tousled hair, to the flush still lingering on her neck.

—Hi —she said curtly.

—Hi —Mariana replied, lowering her gaze.

—Since the three of us are here, let’s decide whether we move tonight or when —Sofía said, trying to sweep away the tension with her voice.

For days they had been noticing things. Looks that didn’t belong in the neighborhood. Cars that passed in front of the office twice. People who were where they shouldn’t have been. That was why Mariana had insisted on moving the investigation to her own apartment: more anonymous, colder, more her. Though even there were memories she would no longer be able to escape.

—We do it tonight. There’s no more room to wait —Mariana added, steadying her voice.

They each began packing their papers. Sofía went into another room to get more boxes. Renata stayed with Mariana, silently flipping through the reports. After a while, without looking up from the folder, she let out the line she’d been choking on all day.

—She wrote to me. —She paused—. Camila.

Mariana’s body tensed like a wire about to snap. She pretended not to have heard. But Renata never stopped at a wall.

—She asked for your number. She just wants to talk to you.

Mariana didn’t look up.

—Don’t even think about giving it to her. Under no circumstances are you giving it to her.

Renata swallowed.

—I don’t think that’s fair. She just wants to talk to you.

—About what? To keep playing? —Mariana raised her voice before she could stop herself—. Everything she could have felt was a game. And I’m not willing to play anymore.

Renata looked at her hard.

—And why does it hurt you so much if it was just a game?

—Don’t start, Renata.

Renata shut the report with a sharp slap.

—Do you really think it was a game for her? I saw her the last time. She came to the Prosecutor’s Office asking for you. Her eyes were red, Mariana. You don’t get eyes like that from a game. You get them when someone rips your cunt and your chest apart at the same time.

—What else could it have been? You tell me, because I don’t understand. I don’t have time for someone to come in, turn everything upside down, and then leave with someone else out there, like nothing happened.

—You don’t have time. —Renata frowned—. You don’t want to talk to her because you can’t stand what you feel. And you say there’s no time, but there’s Sofía. Is it because of her? Because Sofía fucks you gently and lets you sleep, and Camila left you trembling all night?

Mariana took a step back, as if the question had shoved her.

—Sofía has nothing to do with this. Besides, Sofía doesn’t break me. And that’s enough for me to want to stay with her.

—Ah, so you’ve already decided. You’re staying with the one who doesn’t break you. Very brave, doctor.

Renata sprang to her feet.

—And you think Camila did it on purpose? Do you really think it was a game for her?

—I don’t know —Mariana replied, her voice breaking—. But I don’t want to find out. I can’t.

—You’re lying to yourself —Renata said, hurt—. And you’re pushing away the only person who really saw you.

—I don’t need to be seen. I need to finish this case. Nothing else.

The words hung there like smoke. Renata gathered her things abruptly and left without looking back. Mariana remained standing, rigid, her hands clenched. Sofía had heard everything from the hallway; she said nothing when she came back in. She only approached and brushed Mariana’s arm, barely, with the tips of her fingers.

—Sometimes silence is crueler than any truth. Come to bed. Let me take care of you again.

Mariana shook her head. But she let herself be led by the hand anyway. Sofía took her to the bedroom, stripped her slowly, button by button, without haste, and laid her face down on the bed. She ran her tongue over Mariana’s nape, down her back, along the curve of her waist, and kept going until she reached her ass. Mariana felt the hot tongue parting her butt cheeks, searching lower, until it reached her cunt again, already soaked though Sofía had barely touched her.

—You’re thinking about her —Sofía murmured against her skin, without resentment, almost resigned—. It doesn’t matter. I’m still going to make you come.

She buried her face between Mariana’s legs and slid her tongue in from behind, while her hand beneath Mariana’s belly began circling her clit. Mariana bit the pillow. She came again, harder than before, with her thighs squeezing Sofía’s face, and with the wrong name just about to slip from her mouth. She swallowed it at the last second. But Sofía heard it anyway, in the silence. The ones who love too much always hear it.

Mariana did not return the embrace that came afterward. She lowered her gaze, ashamed of the scene, and at the same time something uncontrollable was igniting in her chest, something she couldn’t decipher with words but that burned beneath her sternum.

***

They each left in their own car, taking different routes, with enough caution not to be followed. When they arrived at the building, Renata walked behind Mariana in silence. Sofía didn’t mention the fight, or the bed, or the name Mariana had swallowed, which Mariana appreciated without saying so.

The guard saw them come in and immediately approached.

—Doctor, good evening. Good to see you back.

—Good evening, Tomás. Things got a little complicated for me, but I’m here now. Just so you know, these two —she pointed to Renata and Sofía— will be coming by often. If not every day.

—Of course, doctor. —Tomás hesitated for a second and lowered his voice—. Sorry. The young woman you came with a few weeks ago. Miss Camila.

Just hearing the name was a direct stab to the sternum. What came next took her breath away.

—She’s come almost every day. Sometimes in the middle of the night. But since you hadn’t shown up, I couldn’t let you know. I only mentioned it to Doctor Renata. I don’t know if she told you.

—Thank you, Tomás. We’ll talk about that later. —And she shot Renata a sidelong look, which Renata held firm without lowering her eyes.

—And if she comes back, she doesn’t have authorization to go upstairs, right?

—No. If she comes back and I’m here, just tell her that…

Mariana couldn’t finish the sentence. She felt the air burning in her chest.

Right at that moment, on the other side of the lobby glass, Camila appeared.

Leaning against the outer wall as if it were the only thing keeping her upright. Her skin paler than Mariana remembered, her lips split, her eyes sunken, her hair stuck to her temples. It wasn’t clear whether she was soaked from the rain, from sweat, or from her own tears. Maybe from all three at once.

Mariana’s heart raced like an alarm with no off switch.

Their eyes met through the glass. And very slowly, those honey-colored eyes collapsed.

—Camila! —Mariana shouted, and ran, crossing the lobby at full speed.

She shoved the door open and dropped to her knees beside her. She held her in her arms. Her skin was ice-cold, her pulse weak, her breathing ragged. Mariana pressed her to her chest as if something more than her body depended on it. As if holding her was, in truth, holding herself together.

—I’m here. I’ve got you. Breathe, please. Don’t leave me —she whispered into her wet hair, again and again.

Tears fell from her uncontrollably, hot against the cold of the night. That feeling was far too familiar. It was the same collapse she had been trying to avoid for months, the same one she had hidden behind work, behind Sofía’s cunt, behind silence. And now it was there, spread open on the granite floor of the lobby, with no possibility left of denying it.

A few feet away, Sofía watched without moving. Not out of coldness. But because at that instant she understood something she had never wanted to accept: that her place in Mariana’s heart was not a refuge. It was a pause. A long, generous pause, full of coffees and calculated tenderness and tongues sunk between thighs at three in the morning, but a pause all the same. She said nothing. But the pain on her face was impossible to hide.

Renata arrived a few seconds later and stopped one step behind Sofía. Her expression was a sea of things: relief, concern, a contained rage that no longer had anyone to blame. But for the first time in weeks, Mariana’s silence had a different tone. It was not denial, it was not escape. It was fear.

And something deeper still, beneath the fear, forcing its way forward.

It was love.