Regina hit the table. The flan trembled.
You were always envious. That’s why Mom loved you less.
The anchor went silent. The lady in the box looked at me with that shame that I did not ask for but that for the first time I was not ashamed. I took money out just for my food and got up.
“You pay your share. You’re great to inherit consequences.
Regina followed me to the sidewalk screaming that I was a bastard, that my parents died knowing who the good daughter was and that she could prove that I owed her help. I didn’t answer. I learned years ago that arguing with her was like sweeping in a storm.
When I got back to the office, I warned security. An hour later she tried to get in again and they took her out. I thought it ended up there. I was wrong.
That afternoon I had to bring some documents to my director’s house, Mr. Marisol, because the next day we had an audit and she was taking care of her sick mom. I took an application taxi. I didn’t notice the gray car that followed us to Lomas de Juriquilla. Afterwards, checking in my mind, I remembered seeing that car near the fund, but at that moment I just wanted to end the day without crying in the office bathroom.
Marisol opened me up before she played. I went in, left the folder on the table and started explaining some pending payments. Then someone pushed the door that had been left ajar.
Regina came in with her suitcase, smelling of cheap perfume and courage.
“So here you live,” he said, looking at the room as if he were evaluating curtains. He’s better than I thought. Well, I’ll stay in the main room.
Marisol stood still. His mother, from the armchair, turned off the television.
“Regina, this is not my house.
“Don’t start with your lies,” he shouted. Ma’am, you’re gonna have to leave when I settle in. This house now is also due to me.
Marisol didn’t scream. That’s what scared me the most. He just took his cell phone, closed the door safely and said,
“Perfect. So now it’s not a sister’s lawsuit. It’s break-in, harassment and threats inside my house.
