“What’s going on?”
Vanessa laughed lightly.
“Don’t exaggerate. She wanted to help. We have guests, and she gets emotional trying to feel useful.”
Lucía lowered her eyes.
That told me everything.
“Look at me,” I said softly. “Did you want to be here washing dishes while they celebrate upstairs?”
She hesitated, glancing at Vanessa like she needed permission.
“I… didn’t want problems.”
That was enough. This wasn’t one night—it was a pattern.
Vanessa crossed her arms.
“Mom said this is best. Lucía doesn’t know how to behave around people like us.”
I stayed calm.
“Taking care of her? By making her clean your mess?”
“They’re just dishes,” she replied.
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