Chapter 5 - It’s Time
Rodrigo shouted from the dining room.
“How long does it take to boil water?”
“Twenty minutes,” Mariana answered calmly.
Fernanda laughed. “She can’t even cook quickly.”
Mariana arranged the evidence on Teresa’s prized silver serving tray, the one displayed every Christmas as if inheritance and manners were the same thing. She placed the photos on top, then the blurred financial statements, then the flash drive. The tablet went beside them, already connected to the secure file.
Rodrigo’s slap from minutes earlier had saved in three encrypted backups.
Outside the front gate, two unmarked vehicles waited with headlights off.
Mariana unlocked her phone.
Three messages.
To Elena Sáenz.
To the prosecutor.
To Camila.
It’s time.
Then she looked at herself in the polished serving lid.
Messy blonde hair.
White satin dress stained near the waist.
Marked cheek.
Eyes that no longer asked permission.
For two years, she had feared what would happen if Rodrigo realized she was gathering proof. Now she understood something colder: people like Rodrigo rarely imagine proof belongs to the person they hurt. They believe power is being loudest in the room.
Mariana lifted the tray.
The silver felt heavier than pasta.
Good.
Some things should have weight.
In the dining room, Rodrigo slammed his knuckles against the table.
“Mariana! If dinner isn’t on this table right now, I’m coming to get you myself.”
She opened the kitchen door.
The three of them turned.
She walked in slowly, tray balanced in both hands.
May you like
Rodrigo smiled.
Then she lifted the lid.
