Chương 1
"Iván was already adjusting the driver’s seat of Sofía’s new SUV when she reached the curb, and the sight of his shoes grinding dust into the spotless floor mat stopped her so abruptly that Andrés nearly walked into her.
“In this family, everything is shared,” Iván said, lifting her keys from the ignition and letting them jingle from one finger.
Sofía stared at him through the open driver’s door.
“Get out.”
Iván’s smile widened because he had always mistaken disbelief for weakness.
“Relax, Sofi, I’m taking it around the block.”
“No.”
She held out her hand.
“Give me my keys.”
Behind her, Andrés shifted the paper bag of sweet bread from one arm to the other.
“Can we not do this today?”
Sofía turned toward him.
For three years of marriage, those words had meant the same thing.
They meant that someone in his family had crossed a line and Sofía was expected to move the line rather than inconvenience anyone.
“I’m not doing anything,” she said.
“He’s sitting in my car.”
“It’s just Iván.”
“That doesn’t make it better.”
The Toyota still smelled faintly of plastic and upholstery cleaner, and the little Saint Jude charm her mother had given her swung beneath the rearview mirror as Iván leaned back and tested the seat controls.
Sofía had owned the SUV for eleven days.
She had spent almost two years saving the down payment from nursing shifts that ended with her feet swollen inside compression socks and her hair smelling like hospital disinfectant.
Andrés had contributed nothing to the purchase, partly because his construction work had become inconsistent and partly because every time he saved money, some emergency involving his parents seemed to appear.
Sofía had never held that against him.
At least, she had tried not to.
She reached into the vehicle and pulled the keys from Iván’s hand.
His smile disappeared.
“What the hell?”
“I said no.”
Carmen appeared in the doorway before Iván could answer.
She wore an apron over a flowered blouse and held a wooden spoon as though she had stepped away from the stove only because someone had insulted her.
“What happened now?”
“Nothing,” Andrés said quickly.
Iván climbed out.
“Your daughter-in-law thinks I’m going to steal her precious truck.”
“I never said that.”
“You practically did.”
Carmen looked from Iván to the SUV and then at Sofía.
“It’s a car.”
“Yes.”
“Then why are you making everybody uncomfortable over a car?”
Sofía slipped the keys into her bag.
“Because he took them without asking.”
Carmen gave a short laugh.
“God forbid someone in the family touches something that belongs to Princess Sofía.”
Andrés whispered her name.
It was not a warning to his mother.
It was a warning to her.
Sofía felt something small and exhausted inside her finally refuse to cooperate.
“I worked for it,” she said.
“So?”
“So I decide who drives it.”
Carmen’s face tightened.
“If you’re my son’s wife, what you have belongs to the family.”
“No, it doesn’t.”
The answer came out quieter than Sofía expected.
That seemed to anger Carmen more.
Ramiro had been watching from inside, seated in his usual chair near the television.
He muted the soccer match and stood.
“Come inside.”
Sofía remained near the door.
“I think I’m going home.”
“We haven’t eaten,” Andrés said.
“You can stay.”
His eyebrows rose.
“You’re seriously leaving?”
She almost laughed.
Instead, she looked at him for several seconds, waiting for him to hear his own question.
He did not.
Ramiro stepped closer.
“No one walks away while my wife is speaking.”
“I’m not trying to disrespect anybody.”
“Then stop behaving like a stranger.”
Sofía tightened her hand around the strap of her bag.
“I asked for my property back.”
“Property,” Carmen repeated.
“Listen to her.”
The kitchen smelled of roasted chiles and onions, and somewhere behind Carmen a pot lid rattled softly with steam.
It should have been an ordinary Sunday meal.
Sofía had even bought the sweet bread Andrés liked from the bakery near their apartment because he had complained that his mother always bought the dry kind.
Now he stood holding that same bag like an object he had been assigned to protect.
Sofía stepped backward.
“I’m leaving.”
Carmen caught her forearm.
“Don’t make a spectacle outside.”
“Let go of me.”
“Stop being dramatic.”
Sofía pulled once, but Carmen tightened her grip.
“Carmen.”
“See how you speak to me?”
“Let go.”
When Sofía pulled harder, Carmen stumbled against the wall and cried out.
Ramiro crossed the distance between them before anyone else moved.
“You do not put your hands on my wife.”
“She grabbed me.”
Sofía saw his body shift.
She had just enough time to understand that he was not merely approaching her.
His foot drove into her lower abdomen.
The pain arrived before the sound.
Sofía folded around it and struck the tile on one knee, then her hip, then both hands.
For several seconds she could not breathe.
The room became fragments.
The television.
Carmen saying Ramiro’s name.
The paper bag slipping from Andrés’s fingers.
A sweet roll rolling beneath the dining table.
Sofía pressed both hands against her stomach.
There had been a positive pregnancy test hidden beneath folded towels in her bathroom cabinet for four days.
She had not told Andrés because she wanted to be certain first.
Her appointment was Tuesday.
Tuesday suddenly seemed impossibly far away.
“Sofía?”
Andrés finally moved.
He crouched beside her but did not touch her.
She looked at him.
His face was pale.
“Did you see that?”
He swallowed.
“Dad lost his temper.”
The sentence did something the kick had not.
It cleared her mind.
“Did you see what he did?”
“Of course I saw, but everybody was upset.”
Ramiro stood several feet away, breathing hard.
“She shoved your mother.”
“I pulled my arm away.”
“Same thing.”
“No.”
Her voice shook now.
“It is not the same thing.”
Carmen rubbed her elbow although she had not fallen.
May you like
“Just sit down and calm yourself.”
Sofía pushed herself upright against the wall.
