“Let her answer.”
Daniela swallowed.
“Dad said it was best for everyone.”
“For everyone or for you?”
She didn’t answer.
Lucía, who had come with me but had stayed by the door, stepped forward.
“I’m Valeria’s lawyer. The court has already received a formal response with the identity theft report, the medical letters confirming that her fainting spells were caused by physical exhaustion, and evidence of Mr. Gerardo’s financial conflict.”
My dad looked at her with hatred.
“You had no right to get involved.”
“You had no right to steal.”
A woman from the prayer group, Doña Carmen, crossed herself.
“Oh, Gerardo.”
My mom started truly crying.
“We were going to end up on the street.”
I looked at her.
“And that’s why you put my daughter in debt?”
“Your father said he would fix it later.”
“No. What you were going to fix was selling my house.”
The silence grew heavy. Then I took 3 white envelopes out of the folder.
“I also brought this.”
My father frowned.
“What is it?”
“Written notices. You have 30 days to leave my house.”
My mom let out a moan.
“Valeria, we’re your parents.”
“And I was your daughter when you left me alone in the ER. I was your daughter when you laughed at me on Facebook. I was your daughter when I worked double shifts to pay for your food, electricity, and roof. But you only remembered the word family when I set a boundary.”
Daniela grabbed her purse.
“You’re sick.”
I looked straight at her.
“No, Daniela. I’m awake.”
That was the second blow. Because for years, they had used my exhaustion as proof of weakness. But that afternoon, in front of everyone, my voice was the only thing firm in the room. My dad grabbed one of the envelopes.
“You can’t sell the house. We live there.”
