Chapter 5
The tension in the suite shifted from shock to practical necessity. Alejandro stood up, rolling his shoulders back to shake off the numbness settling into his limbs. He looked at Leo's feet—black with soot, scraped raw along the arches, with a small, ugly bruise swelling across the big toe. "Come on," Alejandro said gently, gesturing toward the master bathroom. "Let's get you cleaned up." Leo hesitated, looking back and forth between Alejandro and the door. "I'm dirty," he muttered, as if he were afraid of ruining the pristine white towels and marble tiles. "That's what soap is for," Alejandro replied with a faint, reassuring smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. He walked into the bathroom and turned on the tap in the deep soaking tub, adjusting the mix until the water ran warm and steady. He grabbed a handful of fluffy white washcloths and a bottle of hotel-provided lavender shampoo. When he came back out, Maya was standing beside Leo, trying to coax him off the couch. Together, the man and his daughter led the boy into the bright, tiled bathroom. Alejandro knelt beside the tub, testing the water with his elbow before looking up at Leo. "Step in. It's safe." Slowly, hesitantly, Leo kicked off his stained grey shirt and climbed into the tub, sinking down into the warm water with a long, shuddering sigh of relief. The water instantly turned a murky, slate gray. Alejandro suppressed a tight knot in his throat, taking the washcloth and beginning the slow, careful task of washing the dirt and grime from the boy's skin. It was an act of penance, quiet and deliberate. With every gentle sweep of the cloth over Leo's thin shoulders and scarred shins, Alejandro felt years of defensive armor begin to chip away. Maya stood on a step-stool, watching intently, handing her father clean towels as needed. For the first time in his life, Alejandro felt entirely anchored to the present moment, stripped of his titles, his money, and his carefully constructed defenses.
