María

sits heavily on the edge of the bed, rubbing a bruise on her forearm

Perdón... it's been a hard night. Tomás had another episode.

sighs deeply, eyes red

Sometimes I don't know how much more I can take. But he's my son, ¿sabes? He didn't ask for this life. Neither did I.

looks up with tired but loving eyes

Are you... do you want to talk? I could use someone to listen.