Chapter 8 - THE GRANDFATHER IN THE PARKING LOT
Claire walked past her father before anyone could stop her.
She crossed the parking area, lifted the skirt of her wedding dress slightly to keep it from dragging and stopped in front of Eusebio.
He looked terrified.
Not of Rafael.
Of her.
“I’m sorry,” he said.
Claire hugged him.
Five years of letters that never received answers existed between them.
“Dad told me you didn’t want us,” she whispered.
Eusebio’s hands hovered awkwardly before settling on her back.
“He told me you were better without me.”
Claire turned toward Rafael.
“What did you do?”
Guests had begun noticing the tension.
I stepped closer.
“Not here.”
Rafael’s eyes were fixed on Eusebio.
“You have no idea what Iván is doing to you.”
“Iván showed me your messages,” I said.
His expression changed.
Only slightly.
Enough.
“Messages can be fabricated.”
“The workshop footage?”
He looked toward me.
“The vehicle diagnostic report?”
“Monica—”
“The restaurant video?”
That was the first one he had not expected.
Claire slowly stepped away from him.
“Dad?”
Rafael lowered his voice.
“Your grandfather made a decision five years ago. He made it willingly.”
“That isn’t the same as being guilty.”
“He confessed.”
“Because you asked him to?”
His silence answered.
The security guards looked increasingly uncomfortable.
Neither had been hired to manage a family felony confession.
Rafael noticed the guests turning toward us and reverted instinctively to reputation.
“Claire, go inside. People are watching.”
She looked at him as though seeing him for the first time.
“That’s what you care about?”
“This is your wedding.”
“No. This is your photograph.”
Then she took Eusebio’s hand.
“My grandfather is coming to my wedding.”
Rafael stepped forward.
I moved between them.
He stopped.
For twenty-two years, I had believed Rafael’s ability to remain composed meant he was the strongest person in a room.
May you like
That afternoon, I finally understood.
His calm worked only while everyone else followed the script.
