I was dressed in black. A shawl too thin to hide my tears.
Beside me stood Diego, my son. His jaw was set, his eyes locked on the coffin as if it were an unfinished responsibility.
After Eduardo died from a sudden heart attack, Diego became distant.
I heard whispers: money, the house in Colonia Roma, the business… even Valeria’s name. But I refused to believe any of it.
When the priest finished, people approached to offer condolences.
That was when Diego grabbed my hand. Too tight to comfort. Then he leaned toward my ear:
“You are no longer part of this family, Mom.”
My stomach dropped. I tried to respond, but no words came.
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