“Gabriel, listen to me. Whatever Sofia told you, she doesn’t understand the full situation. The money in that account was never going to be enough for her future. I was trying to make sure the family had resources when we needed them.”
I stood motionless.
“What money?”
She went silent.
For several seconds, neither of us spoke.
Then she whispered, “You don’t understand.”
“You’re right. I don’t. That’s why the investigators are looking into it.”
Her breathing changed.
“You cannot do this to me.”
“You did this to yourself.”
She began to cry.
It was a sound I had heard before, usually when she wanted me to forgive her for something small. A forgotten appointment. An argument with a relative. A purchase she had hidden because she knew I would question it.
But this time, I felt nothing that resembled sympathy.
“Gabriel, please. We can work this out privately.”
“No.”
