When she was gone, Alejandro sat up, unable to resist his curiosity. On the note, written in shaky handwriting, were the words:

“Sometimes, those who have everything need something as simple as being seen as good.”

That sentence echoed in his mind all night. It was both painful and comforting.

The next morning, Alejandro watched Lucía from his study as she cleaned vegetables in the kitchen. Her silence wasn’t distant—it was peaceful. It wasn’t ambition—it was honesty. Pure, quiet honesty.

Day after day, he found himself thinking about her. He repeated the test again, pretending to sleep.

And again, she did the same: covering him gently, whispering kind words, and turning off the light before leaving.