Chapter 2 - THE REVELATION AT THE GATE
The silence on the speaker was so heavy you could hear the wind rustling the leaves. Ofelia’s face flushed a deep, mottled red, her wine-colored dress suddenly looking like armor that had just been punctured.
"Open this gate right now, Mariana!" she shrieked, pressing her face against the iron bars as if she could physically force her way through sheer willpower. "You are embarrassing my family! You are ruining my sixty-fifth birthday over some childish tantrum!"
"A tantrum?" I replied, my voice carrying clearly across the street through the high-definition intercom system I had installed near the driveway. "Trying to forge property transfer documents behind my back isn't a tantrum, Ofelia. It's a felony."
A collective gasp rippled through the crowd gathered outside the gate. The two nieces holding gold balloons stopped blowing them up. The aunts whispered furiously among themselves, their eyes darting toward Sergio, who looked like he wanted the concrete beneath his expensive loafers to swallow him whole.
"Sergio!" Aunt Elena snapped, turning on him with sharp accusation. "What is your wife talking about? What documents?"
Sergio stammered, waving his hands frantically. "Nothing! It’s—it’s just a misunderstanding over estate planning—"
"It wasn't a misunderstanding," I cut him off, leaning closer to my phone screen. "Sergio spent last Tuesday going through my private safe files in my home office, trying to find a loophole to sign over fifty percent of my inheritance to his name. And he didn't do it for himself. He did it because Ofelia promised him that once my name was off the deed, she could move into the master suite and turn the guest house over to his jobless brother, Mateo."
The betrayal in the air was palpable. Ofelia shrieked, pointing a manicured finger at the security camera. "Lies! She’s a manipulative liar trying to tear this family apart! Sergio, tell her! Tell everyone she's lying!"
But Sergio couldn't look his mother in the eye. He looked at the gate, then at the diner across the street, finally spotting me sitting by the window with my coffee cup raised in a silent toast.
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"The party is canceled," I said into the phone. "And if any of you step foot past the property line, I’ll have the police here before you can blink. Enjoy your cake on the sidewalk."
I hung up.
