Chương 5
Finally Leandro looked up.
“He instructed you to monitor access.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
Celia glanced at Maribel.
“Because he was afraid somebody would use the account after he died.”
Maribel gave a short, incredulous breath.
“Somebody.”
Celia met her eyes.
“He named you.”
Daphne looked down.
Arthur closed his eyes briefly.
Estelle felt the room tilt in a way that had nothing to do with her knees.
Maribel stood completely still.
Then she said, “Of course he did.”
Leandro studied her.
“You knew about this?”
“I knew your father didn’t trust me.”
“That isn’t what I asked.”
Maribel folded her arms.
“Yes.”
The answer landed without drama.
Estelle almost wished for drama.
It would have been easier than the plainness of it.
Leandro flipped through the papers.
“How did you know?”
Maribel looked toward the windows.
Outside, the dark glass reflected chandeliers and the pale crowd thinning in the adjoining hall.
“Because he told me.”
“When?”
“A week before he died.”
Estelle’s head turned sharply.
“You saw him that week?”
Maribel looked at her.
“Yes.”
“You told me you hadn’t.”
“I lied.”
Leandro shut the folder.
“Why?”
Maribel’s lips pressed together.
For several seconds, she seemed to be choosing between explanations.
The one she picked was small.
“Because he asked me to.”
Estelle stared at her.
“My husband asked you to lie to me.”
“Yes.”
“That is convenient.”
“I know.”
“You expect me to believe that?”
“No.”
The answer stopped Estelle.
Maribel looked suddenly exhausted.
Not defeated.
Not softened.
Just tired in a way Estelle had never seen.
“He expected you not to believe me either.”
Celia shifted her weight.
“Maribel.”
“Don’t.”
Celia stopped.
Leandro looked from one woman to the other.
“You both knew he was moving money around.”
Celia shook her head.
“Not exactly.”
“Then exactly what did you know?”
Celia opened her mouth, but Maribel answered first.
“Your father was paying me.”
Leandro’s expression hardened.
“For what?”
Maribel looked at Estelle.
There was no triumph in her face now.
Only reluctance.
“For staying quiet.”
Estelle’s hand found the back of the chair beside her.
Daphne stepped closer.
Leandro spoke carefully.
“Quiet about what?”
Maribel looked at the floor.
Celia said, “Don’t make her do it like this.”
Leandro turned on her.
“You walked into a ballroom with account records.”
“I came because the account was triggered.”
“You knew this could happen.”
“I knew eventually something would.”
“Then stop managing the room.”
Celia’s mouth tightened.
Leandro looked back at Maribel.
“What was Dad paying you to hide?”
Maribel’s eyes lifted.
“That he had another family.”
Nobody spoke.
A tray somewhere in the hall struck the edge of a table.
The sound was distant and absurdly ordinary.
Estelle sat down again.
This time nobody tried to stop her.
Leandro stared at Maribel.
“No.”
Maribel nodded once.
“No.”
“I’m not asking.”
“I know.”
“No.”
Celia closed her eyes.
Maribel’s voice softened.
“He had a daughter.”
Leandro’s face emptied.
Estelle felt Daphne’s hand touch her shoulder.
She barely registered it.
Maribel continued.
“She would be thirty-eight now.”
Leandro’s lips parted, but nothing came out.
Estelle looked at Celia.
“You knew.”
Celia nodded.
“For a long time.”
“How long?”
“Twenty-three years.”
Estelle gave a small sound that was neither laugh nor sob.
“Twenty-three.”
Celia’s face tightened.
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t.”
Estelle looked away.
“Please don’t say that to me yet.”
Celia stopped speaking.
Arthur quietly pulled the ballroom doors farther closed.
The remaining guests understood.
They left.
Within a minute, only family, Daphne, Arthur, and Celia remained.
The emptiness made the room feel larger and less safe.
Leandro walked toward the windows.
He stopped with his back to everyone.
“Who is she?”
Maribel answered.
“Her name is Alina.”
He turned.
“You know her name.”
“Yes.”
“You’ve met her.”
“Yes.”
“How many times?”
“Enough.”
“That is not an answer.”
Maribel’s expression sharpened again.
“Five.”
Leandro laughed once without humor.
“Five.”
“She didn’t know who I was the first time.”
“And the other four?”
“She did.”
Estelle looked at Maribel.
“You met my husband’s daughter five times.”
“Yes.”
“And said nothing.”
Maribel flinched at that.
It was slight, but Estelle saw it.
“You think I enjoyed that?”
“I don’t know what you enjoy anymore.”
Maribel’s eyes narrowed.
“That’s fair.”
The admission surprised everyone.
Even Maribel seemed to hear it after she said it.
Leandro rubbed both hands over his face.
“Where is she?”
Celia answered.
“Portland.”
“Oregon?”
“Yes.”
“What does she do?”
“She’s a physical therapist.”
“Does she know about me?”
“Yes.”
Leandro turned toward her.
“How?”
“Your father told her.”
“When?”
“Years ago.”
Leandro’s face hardened.
“So she knew I existed.”
Celia nodded.
“And never contacted me.”
“She tried once.”
Maribel said, “Celia.”
“No.”
Celia’s voice stayed calm.
“He deserves that part.”
Leandro looked at her.
“When?”
“After your father’s funeral.”
Estelle lifted her head.
Celia continued.
“She sent a letter.”
Leandro stared at her.
“I never got a letter.”
“I know.”
His gaze shifted slowly toward Estelle.
Estelle’s face drained.
“No.”
Celia shook her head.
“Not her.”
Leandro looked at Maribel.
Maribel did not deny it.
The silence changed everything.
“You took it.”
Maribel’s jaw tightened.
“Yes.”
Estelle stood so abruptly the chair scraped backward.
“Why?”
Maribel looked at her.
“Because his father had just died.”
“That was not your decision.”
“I know.”
“You took a letter addressed to my son.”
“Yes.”
“And you hid it.”
“Yes.”
Estelle crossed the room before she understood she had moved.
She stopped two feet from Maribel.
Daphne followed but did not interfere.
Estelle’s hands shook.
“You had no right.”
Maribel’s voice lowered.
“No.”
“You keep saying that like admitting it makes it smaller.”
“It doesn’t.”
“Then why did you do it?”
Maribel looked at Leandro.
“Because the letter would have detonated everything when all of you were barely functioning.”
Estelle stared at her.
“So you decided to protect us.”
Maribel’s expression changed.
She heard the cruelty in the repetition.
Estelle did too.
May you like
For one second they were mirror images of the same offense.
Maribel looked away first.
