Chapter 7: What Elvira Put in Writing
I walked back to the kitchen.
Sofía held her phone out to me.
The message was long.
I read it standing at the counter.
*Sofía, my love.
I know your mother is upset right now and I understand.
But I need you to know that everything your father did, he did for this family.
A man has needs that a wife sometimes cannot meet.
That is not an excuse — it is a reality that women of my generation understood better.
The baby that is coming is your blood too.
A brother.
I hope one day you will be able to open your heart to him.
Your father loves you.
I love you.
Please don't let your mother's anger take you away from us.
Come visit me.
I am still in the hospital and I am alone.*
I set the phone down on the counter.
Sofía was watching me.
"She's trying to use you," I said.
"To get to me."
"I know." Sofía's voice was flat.
"She called what Dad did a need."
"Yes."
"And she wants me to accept the baby as my brother to make it easier for him."
"Yes."
Sofía picked up her phone.
She read the message again.
Then she put the phone face-down on the table.
"I'm not going to the hospital," she said.
"You don't have to."
"And I don't want her to contact me again." She looked up.
"Can we do something about that?"
"I'll speak to Reyes tomorrow.
We can make a formal request."
She nodded and went back to her homework.
I took a photograph of Elvira's message and sent it to Reyes with a single line: *She's contacting Sofía directly.
Please advise.*
His reply came twelve minutes later: *Save everything.
This is relevant.
Call me in the morning.*
I sat at the kitchen table across from my daughter.
Elena brought tea without being asked and set it between us and went back to her room.
We sat in silence for a while.
The kind of silence that isn't empty — it's full of things that have already been said and don't need repeating.
Then Sofía said: "Mom.
Did you love him?
Before all this?"
I wrapped both hands around my cup.
"Yes," I said.
"For a long time."
"When did it stop?"
I thought about it honestly.
"I don't think it stopped all at once.
I think it became something else.
Habit.
Responsibility.
I stopped asking myself the question."
She considered that.
"That sounds lonely."
"It was.
I just didn't name it."
She looked at her tea.
"I don't want that.
When I'm older.
I don't want to stop asking the question."
"Then don't."
She nodded slowly.
My phone rang.
I looked at the screen.
A number I didn't recognize — not Ricardo, not Elvira, not Reyes.
I answered.
"Mrs.
Salgado?" A woman's voice.
Young.
Careful.
"My name is Daniela Torres."
My hand went still on the cup.
"I know I have no right to call you," she said.
"But there is something you need to know.
About the loans.
About the signature." A pause.
"Ricardo told me what he did.
He told me eight months ago.
I didn't know how to—" Her voice broke slightly.
"I have it in writing.
He sent me a message explaining it.
I kept it because I was scared.
I didn't know what to do with it."
The kitchen was very quiet.
"Daniela," I said carefully.
"Are you willing to share that message with my lawyer?"
A long pause.
May you like
"Yes," she said.
"That's why I'm calling."
