I bought that apartment after forty years of security guard duties, sleepless nights, and double shifts. I gave it to Lucía when she got married, so she would never have to depend on anyone. And now my daughter was sleeping on a bench while Adrián lived there with another woman.
“That can’t be,” I said. “The apartment was in your name.”
Lucia lowered her gaze.
—They made me sign some papers
—They made me sign some papers. Adrián said it was for a bank procedure. His mother, Beatriz, prepared everything. She assured me it was normal. I trusted her.
Beatriz Robles. Family lawyer, expensive suit, sweet voice, and a heart of stone. ”
—And did you sign?
—Yes, Mom. Later I found out they were documents to transfer the apartment to Adrián’s name. He also closed the account where I had my savings. He sold the car. And when I complained, Beatriz got a court order saying I’m aggressive and unstable.
I put a hand to my chest. Sofia listened to everything in silence, her eyes wide.
—How many nights have you been here?
Lucia took a while to answer.
-Four.
Four nights. My daughter and granddaughter out in the open, while that wretch slept under the roof I had paid for.
I took them to a nearby small restaurant. I ordered broth, cakes, and hibiscus water.
Sofia ate with a quiet desperation that broke my heart. Lucia barely touched a bite.
“Adrián asked for full custody,” she said suddenly. “He says I’m a bad mother. That I don’t have a house or a stable job. His family has lawyers, connections, money. ”
