Alejandro snatched the phone and shoved it into his pocket.
Mariana slowly lifted her eyes toward him. “What truth do you have to tell me, Alejandro?”
For the first time in seven years, she realized her daughter’s death might not have been the only tragedy within her home.
PART 2
The following morning, Alejandro brushed off the text with offensive casualness.
Chloe, he explained, was merely a colleague in corporate finance. They had only been talking about his regional promotion. As for “telling her the truth,” he claimed it meant a possible mandatory relocation.
“Adult colleagues text each other after ten at night all the time,” he said dismissively, sipping his morning coffee. “Don’t turn this into another one of your irrational obsessions.”
Before heading out, he gave her a quick, routine kiss on the cheek.
Mariana waited until the garage door closed.
Then she called her younger sister, Carolina.
