Chapter 13 - Seventy-Two Hours
Valeria refused to send the recording electronically.
She was afraid Daniel had access to her cloud account.
Sofía arranged the meeting.
Public place.
Cameras.
No surprises.
Valeria arrived wearing sunglasses despite the cloudy afternoon.
She looked nothing like the woman who had laughed over lobster.
She looked exhausted.
She slid a memory card across the table.
“I recorded him because I thought it was funny.”
Sofía stared at her.
“You thought forging a signature was funny?”
“I didn't know what he was doing.”
I didn't believe her.
Valeria looked at me.
“Not at first.”
That sounded closer to the truth.
The video showed Daniel sitting at our dining table.
A stack of old documents beside him.
My signature visible on one page.
Blank paper on another.
He copied it repeatedly.
Carmen stood behind him.
At one point, she said.
“The M needs to curve more.”
Valeria laughed from behind the camera.
Then Daniel looked up.
“Stop filming.”
The video ended.
Sofía immediately duplicated the file.
Valeria stared at the table.
“Daniel told me the loan was temporary.”
I said nothing.
“He said he'd pay it back after the Cuernavaca deal.”
“What deal?”
Valeria looked confused.
“The house.”
“There is no house.”
Her eyes lifted.
“What?”
“No house was purchased.”
Valeria went pale.
“He said that was where the money went.”
Sofía leaned forward.
“Then where did it go?”
Valeria shook her head.
“I don't know.”
My phone rang.
It was the custody evaluator assigned to our temporary parenting case.
She wanted to schedule my home assessment.
I explained that Camila and I were temporarily staying in a hotel.
There was a pause.
“Ms. Torres, the court prefers a stable residential environment for the child.”
“I own an apartment.”
“Which is currently part of a dispute.”
The words hit me hard.
Daniel had helped create instability.
Now that instability could be used against me.
The evaluator continued.
“I can give you seventy-two hours before my visit.”
Seventy-two hours.
Sofía heard the entire call.
“We find you a temporary apartment today.”
“I can't keep moving Camila.”
“You can't give Daniel's attorney an argument that you lack stable housing.”
She was right.
Again.
By evening, Elena from work arranged a short-term corporate apartment.
Two bedrooms.
Near Camila's preschool.
Secure building.
I should have felt relieved.
Instead, as I packed our hotel room, Camila asked.
“Are we moving because Grandma doesn't want us?”
I knelt in front of her.
“No.”
“Because Daddy is mad?”
“No.”
“Then why?”
I touched her cheek.
“Because Mommy is making us a safe home.”
She considered that.
Then nodded.
That night, Daniel filed an emergency request.
He claimed my work travel and “unstable housing” proved Camila should temporarily live with him.
May you like
The hearing was set for Friday.
Exactly seventy-two hours away.
