Chapter 6: Teresa
Two days later, Patricia called me at eight in the morning.
"Teresa is going to be a problem," she said.
"I want you prepared."
"What happened?"
"She contacted our office yesterday afternoon through her own attorney — a man named Hector Fuentes.
He's handled her family's property matters for years.
He sent a letter claiming that the transfers to T.
Alvarez Holdings were legitimate business investments made with your full knowledge and consent, and that the home equity line was discussed and agreed upon verbally during a family meeting."
"There was no family meeting."
"I know.
But she's building a paper defense.
She'll claim the forgery was a clerical error — that you signed a different version of the document and the pages were mixed up during scanning."
"That's not true."
"It doesn't need to be true.
It needs to create enough doubt to slow things down." Patricia paused.
"She's also filed a motion requesting grandparent visitation rights for Sofía."
The kitchen went very quiet.
"She what?"
"It was filed yesterday.
It's a pressure tactic — designed to make you feel that fighting the financial case puts Sofía's stability at risk.
She wants you scared enough to negotiate."
I thought about Sofía pressed against the sofa.
The red mark.
Teresa's hand holding that belt with the same ease she held a handbag.
"She is not getting near my daughter."
"I agree.
And the timing of this filing, combined with the documented incident at Sofía's birthday, gives us strong grounds to oppose it.
But I want you ready for the possibility that Teresa will try to speak to you directly.
She may show up.
She may call.
She may send someone you trust."
She was right to warn me.
Teresa called that evening.
I answered because I wanted to hear what she would say.
"Verónica." Her voice was smooth.
Warm, almost.
The voice she used at family dinners when she wanted something.
"I think we've both let this get out of hand."
"Have we."
"You're upset.
I understand.
The birthday was — it was handled badly.
I'll admit that."
"Will you."
"I'm not a monster.
I love Sofía."
"You had a belt in your hand."
A small pause.
"I was trying to correct a behavior.
I was wrong about the method.
I can say that."
"What do you want, Teresa?"
"I want my family back together." Her voice stayed even.
"Diego made some decisions that were — impulsive.
Financial decisions.
I want you to know that the money can be returned.
All of it.
If we resolve this privately, between family, there's no reason for lawyers and courts and—"
"The notary who witnessed my signature," I said.
"Claudia Vega.
She's your niece."
Silence.
"That was a coincidence of—"
"Stop."
She stopped.
"You planned this before I ever walked out that door," I said.
"The company was incorporated eight months ago.
The home equity line was three months ago.
You were not reacting to a fight.
You were already finished."
"Verónica—"
"You laughed," I said.
"In my living room, on my daughter's birthday, you laughed.
Because you thought I'd never find out.
Because you thought I was the kind of woman who would come home the next morning and apologize."
Her voice went flat.
The warmth dropped out of it entirely.
"You should think very carefully about what you're doing.
Diego is Sofía's father.
I am her grandmother.
Courts look at these things."
"I know what courts look at," I said.
"My attorney does too."
"You're making an enemy of this family."
"You made an enemy of me the day you put a mark on my daughter's arm and expected me to say sorry for it."
I ended the call.
Patricia had been right.
Teresa had tried.
She had also just confirmed, in her own words, that the offer to return the money was real — which meant she knew exactly where it was.
May you like
I recorded the call.
I sent the audio file to Patricia within the minute.
