Chapter 3 - The Ultimatum and the Hidden Files
The smoke from the ruined leather bag had barely cleared when Valeria threatened to call the police, screaming that I was mentally unstable and a danger to society. Mauricio, torn between his weeping wife and his own guilt, spent the entire night pacing the hallway outside my bedroom. I could hear their muffled arguments through the door—Valeria demanding they kick me out immediately, and Mauricio stammering that the house was legally mine, inherited directly from my husband Julián.
By sunrise, the patio had been swept clean, but the heavy, sour stench of the incident lingered in the air like an uninvited guest.
I woke up at 5:00 AM, as I always did, brewed a small pot of dark coffee, and sat at the kitchen table. My hands did not shake. The terror of standing up to them had dissolved into a cold, clear resolve. I turned on my old tablet—a gift from my late husband for reading the news—and logged into my bank's mobile application.
It took three taps to reach my account dashboard, but the moment the numbers loaded, my breath caught in my throat.
The balance was practically zero.
A series of unauthorized transfers had drained my retirement savings—the meager safety net Julián and I had spent thirty years building—over the last three months. Large chunks of money had been funneled into a digital wallet registered under Mauricio’s name, labeled as "Family Support and Investment." Additionally, there was a pending loan application for one hundred and twenty thousand pesos, submitted digitally just two days ago, utilizing my biometric verification while I slept.
They weren't just trying to make me a servant in my own home. They were systematically erasing me financially.
Mauricio walked into the kitchen a few minutes later, looking exhausted, dark circles bruised beneath his eyes. He poured himself a cup of coffee and cleared his throat, avoiding my gaze.
"Mom... about last night," he started, his voice heavy with forced patience. "Valeria is beside herself. That bag... it's irreplaceable. She wants an apology, and honestly, we need to talk about your behavior. You can't just destroy people's property because you're having a mood swing."
I looked up slowly, staring straight into the eyes of the boy I had raised, fed, and protected through thick and thin.
"Mauricio," I said, my voice dangerously calm. "Sit down."
He frowned, leaning against the counter. "I don't have time for a lecture. Valeria has a headache, and we have to figure out how you're going to pay her back for—"
"Look at the screen," I interrupted, spinning the tablet around so the glowing blue numbers faced him. "Tell me what this is."
Mauricio glanced at the screen, and the color drained completely from his face. His lips parted, but no sound came out. The coffee mug in his hand trembled, spilling a few dark drops onto the tile floor.
"Mom, I can explain," he whispered, his bravado vanishing instantly.
"Explain how you stole from a widow?" I stood up, towering over him despite my small stature. "Explain how you and your wife planned to leave me penniless on the street? You didn't just ruin a birthday cake, Mauricio. You dug my financial grave."
Before he could stammer another excuse, the kitchen door swung open, and Valeria walked in, wearing a silk robe and a look of pure venom.
"What is all the screaming about?" she snapped. "If she hasn't apologized yet, Mauricio, pack our bags. We are leaving this miserable house today. I am not spending another minute with a crazy old woman who destroys designer goods!"
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I turned my gaze to Valeria, feeling a strange, powerful surge of adrenaline.
"Oh, you won't have to worry about packing your bags, Valeria," I said, smiling coldly. "Because you aren't leaving. Not yet. But the locks? The locks are changing by noon."
