Chapter 9 - The Ambush at the HotelAn hour later, state police units surrounded the quiet hotel near the airport where Patricia, her sister, and her niece were staying.
I sat in Roberto’s car parked across the street, watching through the windshield as Prosecutor Gomez led a team of six officers through the lobby glass doors.
Ten minutes passed in complete silence.
Then, the lobby doors swung wide.
Patricia was led out first, her arms pinned behind her back in steel handcuffs. She was screaming, flailing her legs, and shouting curses at the officers, but two sturdy female agents held her firmly by her shoulders. Behind her came her sister, also cuffed, crying hysterically as a third officer carried a box of seized laptops and travel bags.
Bianca followed behind them, looking small, terrified, and utterly stripped of her arrogant posture as an officer guided her toward a social services vehicle.
Patricia’s eyes swept the parking lot until they locked onto Roberto’s car.
Through the open window, she saw me sitting in the passenger seat.
"Gabriel!" she shrieked, her voice echoing across the concrete lot. "Gabriel, tell them to stop! Tell them it was a mistake! I'm your wife!"
I didn't shout back. I didn't taunt her.
I slowly rolled down my window, rested my arm against the door frame, and picked up my phone. I held it up so she could see the screen—where the video recording of Sofia detailing her abuse was playing on a loop.
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Patricia’s shouting stopped instantly. Her face drained of every last drop of color as she realized that her own voice, captured on the recordings in the closet binder, would be used against her in court.
The officers loaded her into the back of the transport van, closed the heavy doors with a loud metallic thud, and drove away toward the state detention center.
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