Patricia smiles, all teeth.
“Oh, nothing,” she says.
“Just family matters.”
You nod as if you believe her, then pull out your phone.
“I’ll make it easy,” you say.
You tap the screen, not dramatic, just practical.
“I’m putting one more thing on record today.”
Patricia’s smile wavers.
Alejandro’s eyes widen slightly, as if he’s realizing you brought more than paperwork.
Lucía looks at you like a drowning person looks at a rope.
You open your voice memo app.
You set the phone on the table.
“And I’m going to ask you a simple question,” you say.
“Why did you really move in?”
Patricia scoffs.
“To help my daughter,” she says immediately.
But her eyes flick away, a microsecond of panic.
You nod.
“And why,” you continue, “did you insist on controlling the mail?”
Patricia’s head snaps up.
A murmur ripples through the relatives.
Lucía’s eyes widen.
Alejandro’s face tightens.
Because yes, that happened. Patricia took the mailbox key “to keep things organized.”
Patricia’s voice rises.
“I was protecting them,” she says.
“There are scams. Bills. Important documents.”
Her fan starts again, too fast now, like a nervous tic.
You tilt your phone slightly closer.
“And why,” you ask, gentle as a trapdoor, “did you take Lucía’s laptop into your room last month?”
Lucía flinches.
A cousin whispers, “What?”
Patricia’s fan stops.
For the first time, she looks… cornered.
She opens her mouth, and for once, no story comes quickly enough.
