The story sounded believable: a medical emergency, a worried son, and me looking selfish if I complained.
So I did something I never expected from myself.
I forced a smile and said, “It’s okay.”
But that night, after Álvaro fell asleep, I started checking the documents for the car. The registration, the purchase contract, everything.
Just as I suspected, the car was legally mine. My name was the only one on the paperwork.
The next day I scheduled a meeting with Javier Montalbán, a lawyer recommended by a coworker. I wasn’t looking for revenge. I just wanted to understand my situation.
Javier listened carefully while I explained everything. After asking a few questions about dates and transactions, he said something that immediately made me uneasy.
“If the money was really for medical treatment,” he said, “there should be invoices, hospital transfers, or some kind of record. Let’s check the transaction history.”
It didn’t take long.
When the bank statements arrived, Javier studied them closely and frowned.
“Lucía… there are no hospital payments here.”
