You walk to the door and look through the peephole.
Teresa is standing in the hallway in a beige linen set, full makeup at eight in the morning, gold bracelets trembling against her wrist as she jabs one manicured finger at your door. Gabriel stands beside her in yesterday’s jeans and an expensive-looking polo he did not buy himself. Behind them, Mrs. Hernández from 4B is already pretending to adjust the plant outside her door while openly watching. The teenage twins from 4D are peeking from the stairwell with the ecstatic focus of boys who know school will never offer a lesson this interesting.
The whole building is waking up.
You unlock the deadbolt, leave the chain on, and open the door just enough to show your face.
Teresa lunges forward like outrage itself.
“How dare you?” she snaps. “How dare you leave me humiliated in a store like some criminal?”
You meet her eyes without blinking. “Good morning to you too.”
Gabriel steps in before she can continue, but only because he still believes tone can disguise character. “Lucía, can you please stop doing this? My mother was embarrassed in public.”
The chain between you and them suddenly feels less like a barrier and more like a symbol. Thin, maybe, but finally yours.
“And I was humiliated in private for years,” you say. “Funny how that never seemed urgent to either of you.”
