She doesn’t see the millionaire.
She sees the child.
And when the coffin disappeared into the earth, something inside me disappeared with it.
I remember thinking that perhaps Vanessa would finally stop treating me like an unwanted guest.
I was wrong.
The moment we returned to the mansion, she changed.
At the cemetery, she had cried.
She had held tissues against her eyes.
She had accepted condolences.
She had looked like a devastated widow.
But inside the house, she removed her black coat, placed it over a chair, and walked toward me.
Her expression was completely different.
Cold.
Controlled.
Almost impatient.
“I’ve arranged somewhere for you to stay,” she said.
I stared at her.
“What?”
“The mountain cabin.”
I thought I had misunderstood.
“What cabin?”
“The one your son owned.”
“Neftalí’s cabin?”
“Yes.”
“I thought that place had been abandoned for years.”
“It has.”
She handed me two suitcases.
I looked at them.
“You packed my things?”
“Yes.”
“You went through my bedroom?”
“Of course.”
I felt something crack inside me.
“My bedroom?”
Vanessa sighed.
“Please don’t make this difficult.”
I looked past her toward the staircase.
“My son’s bedroom is still upstairs.”
“You don’t need to go upstairs anymore.”
