Chapter 4 - Thirty-Five Thousand Pesos
Roberto asked to speak to me privately.
Carmen refused.
Daniel called him senile.
Sofía suggested we continue the conversation elsewhere.
Twenty minutes later, Roberto sat across from us in a café downstairs.
His hands trembled around a cup of coffee.
“I thought you knew.”
“Knew what?”
“That Carmen was keeping most of the money.”
My stomach tightened.
“Keeping it for what?”
“Valeria.”
I stared at him.
Roberto looked ashamed.
“Her boutique.”
I knew about Valeria's boutique.
What I didn't know was that I had apparently been financing it.
“How much?”
“At first, maybe ten thousand a month.”
He looked down.
“Then more.”
“For how long?”
“Almost two years.”
Thirty-five thousand pesos each month.
Twenty-four months.
Eight hundred forty thousand pesos.
That did not include groceries.
Utilities.
Clothing.
Medical bills.
Credit cards.
Vacations.
Restaurants.
Or Daniel's expenses.
I opened my calculator.
Roberto looked sick when he saw the number.
“Why didn't you tell me?”
“Because Carmen said Daniel knew.”
I looked at him.
“And did he?”
Roberto didn't answer.
That was answer enough.
Sofía leaned forward.
“Mr. Ortega, did your son know money intended for Camila's care was being redirected?”
Roberto closed his eyes.
“Yes.”
The café suddenly felt too small.
I remembered every time Daniel had told me I was lucky his mother helped us.
Every time he said Carmen sacrificed her retirement for Camila.
Every time he made me feel guilty for working late.
Meanwhile, they were taking money intended for my daughter's care and pouring it into Valeria's failing business.
“Did Camila have a nanny?”
“Not anymore.”
I froze.
“What do you mean?”
“You stopped paying Rosa.”
“I never stopped paying Rosa.”
Roberto looked confused.
“She left six months ago.”
I had been transferring Rosa's salary every month.
Directly to an account Daniel had given me.
Sofía took out her notebook.
“Who owned the account?”
“I don't know.”
I checked my records.
The payment label simply said HOUSEHOLD STAFF.
The bank account number was there.
Sofía photographed it.
Roberto looked toward the window.
“There is more.”
Of course there was.
“Carmen said Rosa was stealing.”
“Was she?”
“No.”
“Then why did she leave?”
Roberto lowered his voice.
“Because she kept arguing about how Carmen treated Camila.”
My skin went cold.
“What did she say?”
“That a little girl shouldn't be punished with hunger.”
I stopped breathing.
“Do you know where Rosa is?”
Roberto nodded.
“She gave me her new number.”
He reached into his wallet.
“I kept it because I thought one day someone might need it.”
He handed me a folded piece of paper.
On it was a phone number.
May you like
And underneath it, written in shaky blue ink, were four words.
Ask about the balcony.
