My wife… was alone in that kitchen.

While my whole family rested.

While she carried not only the weight of the plates.

But also with the weight of our child growing inside his body.

Breathed hondo.

I took the phone out of my pocket.

And I dialed my older sister’s number.

“Isabel,” I said when she answered. “Come to the living room. I need to talk to you.”

Then I called Patricia.

Then Carmen.

In less than two minutes the three of them were sitting in the living room next to my mother, looking at me curiously.

I stood in front of them.

I could hear the water still running in the kitchen.

The sound of Lucia washing dishes.

I felt something inside me finally break.

Then I looked at them one by one.

And I said in a firm voice something I never thought I would say in that house:

“From this day on… no one ever treats my wife as if she were the servant of this family.