Every time her husband went away on a business trip, the father-in-law would always call his daughter-in-law into his room to “whisper to her.” One day, the husband came home early and was petrified by the scene before him…

Diego was a construction engineer and often traveled for work, sometimes gone for up to a month. Whenever Diego wasn’t at home, Mr. Alberto, a man of few words, would call Sofía to the small room at the end of the house—a room Diego had never entered because his father always kept it locked.

Time passed, and Diego’s trips became more frequent. Each time, Sofía would go into that special room. One day, Diego returned earlier than expected.

He didn’t tell anyone, wanting to surprise his wife. When he entered the house, he noticed an unusual silence. Not finding Sofía in the living room or kitchen, he walked toward the back of the house, to his father’s room. The door was ajar—something very strange, as Mr. Alberto always kept it carefully locked. Diego pushed the door open and froze at the sight inside.

…The room was dim, lit only by the yellowish glow of a desk lamp in one corner. The musty smell of medicinal herbs, old wood, and incense made Diego pause for a few seconds.

And then… he went rigid, his heart seeming to stop.

In the center of the room, his wife, Sofía, sat on a wooden chair, her expression pensive and her eyes closed. In front of her, his father, Mr. Alberto, held a wooden comb and was gently brushing her hair—slow, almost mesmerized movements. On the table, a black-and-white wedding photo of Sofía and Diego was prominently displayed, but oddly, the picture had been cut at one corner, leaving only Sofía’s face.

Diego couldn’t comprehend what he was seeing. He exclaimed:

—“Father! Sofía! What are you doing?”

Sofía startled and turned around, panic in her eyes. Mr. Alberto remained calm, only smiling faintly as he placed the comb on the table and said slowly:

—“You’re back already, son? A little early… I wasn’t finished yet.”

Diego stepped in, his voice beginning to tremble:

—“Father… why…? What is Sofía doing here? And what is all this?”

He looked around; on a wooden shelf were dozens of photos of Sofía. Some had been taken secretly while she was sleeping, others while she was at the market, and also one of her smiling joyfully with Diego on their wedding day. But the horrifying thing was… in every single photo, only Sofía remained—Diego’s image had been torn out or cut away.

Diego shouted:

—“Have you gone mad, Father?!”

Sofía had stood up, her eyes red.

—“I… I’m sorry. I didn’t know he… was like this…”

Diego spun around sharply toward her:

—“You didn’t know? Then why did you come here every time he called you? What have you been doing in here the whole month I was away?”

Sofía broke down in tears:

—“I didn’t dare tell you. He threatened… that if I told you, he… would kill himself. I only came because I was afraid he’d do something stupid. At first, he said he just wanted to talk so he wouldn’t feel lonely. But then… he started acting strange. He took pictures of me, said I looked like Grandma when she was young… and forced me to sit for hours while he stared at me…”

Diego shuddered and stepped back, his eyes unable to believe what was happening. He turned to Mr. Alberto and shouted:

—“Are you sick, Father?! Why are you doing this to your daughter-in-law?”

Mr. Alberto only laughed, walked over to the small table, pulled out a wooden box, and tossed it onto the surface. Inside were… locks of hair tied with red thread—Sofía’s hair.

—“I kept every strand of her hair from when she fell asleep here in the room. She never knew. It’s so beautiful… it would be a shame not to preserve it.”

Diego recoiled, his hands clenching into fists, his eyes filled with horror.

—“Father, you need treatment! This is an illness! Don’t you realize this is an illness?!”

Mr. Alberto burst out laughing, and suddenly his voice hardened, his eyes bulging wide:

—“I love her more than you ever have. You don’t deserve her. You’re always gone, leaving her alone. I’m the one who cares for her. She may be your wife… but in my heart, she is… a replacement… for your mother…”

Diego’s face turned pale.

From deep within his heart, a fragment of the past that his grandmother had once told him suddenly resurfaced:

His mother—the woman Mr. Alberto had loved most—had died shortly after Diego’s birth. Mr. Alberto had suffered a psychological breakdown and had to receive psychiatric treatment for a year because he couldn’t accept her death. After recovering, he lived withdrawn and silent; everyone thought he was fine…

Diego gasped, looking at Sofía and then at the man who was transforming before his eyes: no longer his father, but a delusional and broken soul.

He grabbed Sofía’s hand and pulled her out of the room, locked the door, and called an ambulance. When the paramedics arrived, Mr. Alberto was curled up in a corner of the room, clutching Sofía’s photo frame and murmuring:

—“Don’t leave me… don’t leave me like she did…”

Two weeks later, Mr. Alberto was transferred to a psychiatric treatment facility. The doctor diagnosed him with persistent delusional disorder, emotional obsession, and cognitive impairment due to unresolved psychological trauma.

Diego requested a transfer at work so he could stay close to home. From then on, he stopped taking long projects. He held Sofía tightly, his voice choked:

—“I’m sorry… for making you endure this alone.”

Sofía’s tears flowed, but she nodded. She knew that… the darkness had passed, and the most important thing now was to keep their family together and start anew, after everything that felt like nothing more than a nightmare.