“All right,” I said. “Then don’t ask me for another peso.”
My father frowned. “What money?”
Nobody answered.
I pulled out my phone, opened my banking app, and turned it toward him. “The money I’ve been sending Veronica every month. For this house. For your treatment. For Mauricio’s problems. But that ends now.”
The color drained from Veronica’s face.
And from the way my father looked at her, I understood something even worse than the insult she had just thrown at me.
He had no idea.
He knew nothing about the transfers.
Nothing about the debts.
Nothing about the fact that while she told me I wasn’t family, I had been turned into her private cash reserve.
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