Chương 6
Sofía Álvarez had worked with Mariana for eleven years and possessed the rare ability to deliver bad news without softening it or appearing to enjoy it.
“Two clients emailed about the video,” she said. “One asked whether there was a security incident at a company-sponsored event.”
“It was private.”
“I told them.”
“Who else?”
“Three anonymous reviews appeared this morning. One says our owner uses financial power to intimidate children.”
Mariana took the list.
The reception staff looked carefully at their screens. Everyone had seen it.
“Remove the reviews.”
“We have reported them. Removal is not immediate.”
“Call the platform.”
“There is no number that leads to a person.”
“Find one.”
Sofía waited until they were inside Mariana’s office and the door was closed.
“Also, Lorena called.”
“What did she want?”
“She said you froze her household account.”
“I canceled a recurring transfer from my personal account.”
“She called it her household account.”
“That is not my problem.”
“No. But she told the receptionist the money pays for medication.”
Mariana looked up. “Whose?”
“She did not say.”
The office windows faced a line of trees and white apartment towers. A maintenance worker on a suspended platform cleaned the glass two buildings away, moving slowly through the morning light.
Mariana set the list on her desk.
“Find out whether any payment I make covers medication.”
Sofía remained standing. “Personal or business?”
“Personal.”
“Then I should not be involved.”
Mariana met her eyes.
Sofía lifted one shoulder. “You pay me to say that.”
“Yes.”
“Call Lorena yourself.”
“I am not calling her.”
“Then do not ask your employees to investigate your sister.”
Mariana sat down.
On her desk was a framed photograph from Emiliano’s sixth birthday. He was missing a front tooth and laughing at something outside the picture. Lorena stood behind him, one hand on his shoulder.
Mariana turned the frame facedown.
At ten thirty, her attorney called.
“The video can be reported for involving a minor,” she said. “But copies will continue. We can send a formal demand to your sister regarding false statements, especially the armed-security claim.”
“Send it.”
“Before we do, I need to ask what outcome you want.”
“I want her to stop lying.”
“That is emotionally clear and legally imprecise.”
“I want the posts removed, a correction, and no further use of my son’s image.”
“We can demand those things. We cannot guarantee compliance without escalation.”
“What escalation?”
“A civil claim, depending on what she publishes and what measurable harm occurs. But litigation would increase attention. The full video may become evidence. Your son’s humiliation would be replayed.”
Mariana looked at the overturned photograph.
“Draft the demand.”
“I will. Do you want it delivered today?”
“Yes.”
“Read it first.”
“Fine.”
“Mariana.”
“What?”
“Do not publish the photographer’s video.”
“I wasn’t planning to.”
“You sent it to me at two fourteen in the morning with the subject line Proof.”
Mariana said nothing.
“I know you,” the attorney continued. “You use documentation when you feel helpless. That is useful in accounting. It is not always useful in families.”
“Everyone has become very interested in explaining me to myself.”
“Then bill us for the privilege.”
Despite herself, Mariana smiled.
The attorney’s voice softened. “How is Emiliano?”
“At school.”
“That is not what I asked.”
Mariana looked through the window. The maintenance worker had reached the edge of the next building and was wiping the same section twice.
“I don’t know,” she said.
At noon, Rogelio arrived without an appointment.
He stood in the reception area in the same charcoal suit he had worn to the party, though the black shirt was buttoned at the collar now. He looked as if he had not slept.
Sofía called Mariana.
“Your brother-in-law says it is urgent.”
“Tell him to email.”
“He says he will wait.”
“Then let him.”
“He brought a folder.”
Mariana closed her eyes.
“Send him in.”
Rogelio entered with the guarded posture of a man walking into an office where he owed both money and respect. He placed the folder on her desk but did not sit.
“You cut them off.”
“I stopped one transfer.”
“It covers rent.”
“Then pay your rent.”
His mouth tightened. “I am asking for forty-eight hours.”
“For what?”
“To move money.”
“From where?”
“That is not your concern.”
“It became my concern when my payment started covering it.”
He glanced at the facedown photograph.
“I did not know she told him to jump.”
Mariana did not respond.
“I knew she wanted him to interrupt the candles. I thought he was going to grab one or blow them out first. Childish, yes. I told her not to make it a big thing.”
“You stood there smiling.”
“I did not understand what was happening.”
“The rest of the room did.”
“I was trying not to react.”
“You were amused.”
He sat without permission.
The skin beneath his eyes looked gray. The expensive suit could not hide the frayed thread near one cuff.
“Diego is eleven,” he said. “He knows he did something wrong.”
“Does Lorena?”
“She knows it got out of control.”
“That was not my question.”
Rogelio rubbed his palm over his jaw. “Your lawyer contacted her.”
“That was fast.”
“She is terrified.”
“Of consequences?”
“Of you.”
Mariana leaned back. “I removed a lie from social media. I did not threaten her.”
“You sent a legal demand before speaking to her.”
“She posted a false accusation before speaking to me.”
“She called you six times.”
“After she published it.”
He looked at the folder between them.
“We need your help.”
Mariana almost laughed again. “There it is.”
“This is separate.”
“Nothing is separate with you.”
He opened the folder. Inside were bank statements, credit notices, and a letter from a landlord.
“Our restaurant investment failed,” he said.
“What restaurant investment?”
“A group in Monterrey. We bought into a second location.”
“When?”
“Last year.”
“With what money?”
He gave her a look that answered the question before he spoke.
“Loans.”
“How much?”
May you like
“Enough.”
“That is not a number.”
