“That was so you’d spend less,” he tried to justify, but his voice had lost its strength.
I leaned forward.
“Spend less on what, Javier? Eating? Existing?”
He shifted nervously.
“Don’t dramatize.”
I smiled—but it wasn’t a gentle smile.
“I ate lobster today because I had a meeting with the building administrator. Does the name Marta Ruiz ring a bell?”
Javier blinked quickly.
“What does that have to do with—”
“A lot,” I said. “Marta told me that for months there have been unpaid condominium fees… in your name. And that the foreclosure notice was sent to this exact address.”
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