“What?”
“He wants a judge to appoint him as your legal guardian. He says your fainting spells and exhaustion prove that you can’t manage your assets.”
“My assets.”
Lucía looked at me with cold sadness.
“Your house.”
That was the first real blow. My dad hadn’t only used my name to get himself into debt. He wanted to legally control my life so he could sell my grandmother’s house and pay what he himself had stolen. In the file, there was a witness: Daniela Ramírez. My own sister had signed that I wasn’t right in the head. Lucía took my hand.
“Don’t confront him without a strategy.”
But that night, when I got home, I couldn’t fully stop myself. My dad was in the kitchen, pouring himself coffee into my favorite mug.
“Did you use my name to open credit cards?”
He didn’t turn around right away. He took too long.
“Don’t start with your attacks.”
“It’s 453,000 pesos.”
My mom appeared in the doorway.
“Valeria, please, you’re upset.”
“Did you know?”
She lowered her gaze.
My dad put the mug down.
“Everything I did was for this family.”
“You also opened a card in Sofía’s name.”
For the first time, the color drained from his face.
“You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“She’s 7.”
Daniela came out of the living room.
“Don’t make a scene in front of the girl.”
“Did you sign in court that I’m incompetent?”
Her silence was a confession. My dad slammed the table.
“You need help. You’re out of control. I’ve already spoken to Father Alonso. On Sunday we’re going to meet with the family and some neighbors so everyone can see what’s going on.”
I understood the plan. They wanted to make me look crazy in front of everyone before the judge read their papers. They wanted witnesses. They wanted shame. They wanted me to scream. That night I saved every email, every document, and every audio recording. My dad left me a message the next day:
“If you keep going with this, you’ll end up without a family.”
I saved that too. On Sunday, I arrived at the parish holding Sofía’s hand and carrying a yellow folder in my bag. There were about 20 people in the hall: neighbors, my mom’s friends, women from the prayer group, 2 distant uncles, and Father Alonso sitting at the front. My dad stood up with the face of a tired saint.
“We’re worried about Valeria. She’s had episodes, she behaves aggressively, and now she’s accusing her own family of crimes.”
