—Emiliano believes me. He always believes me. A couple of tears, a sad face, and that’s it. Rosa leaves, you all stay quiet, and after the wedding, I’ll be his new mom.
Martina denied it desperately.
—You’ll never be our mom.
Patricia’s expression distorted.
He grabbed her wrist tightly.
Rosa reacted instantly.
—Let her go!
Patricia pushed Martina towards the armchair and turned on Rosa.
—See? This is exactly what I’m going to tell Emiliano. That you’re aggressive, that you want to take my place, and that you’re using his daughters to get money.
Rosa no longer lowered her head.
—I don’t want their money. I just want them to stop hurting them.
—And who’s going to believe you? A maid against the future Mrs. Duarte?
Rosa slowly pulled her cell phone out of her apron.
“Maybe no one will believe me. But they will believe them.”
Patricia snatched the phone from him and smashed it on the floor.
-Not anymore.
Daniela let out a scream, but Rosa remained calm.
—That wasn’t the only support.
For the first time, Patricia lost control.
He grabbed her arm and pulled her towards the hallway.
—What did you save? Where is it?
Rosa did not respond.
Patricia opened the cellar door and pushed her inside.
—You will stay there until you decide to speak.
Then he locked it.
Emiliano couldn’t take it anymore.
He opened the door to the monitoring room and walked down the corridor with Ramiro behind him.
However, before arriving, he heard Daniela’s voice from the living room.
—That’s enough, Patricia.
The girl took out the tape recorder.
—Everything stayed here.
Patricia lunged at her.
Daniela ran toward the table, but tripped on the rug. The recorder fell to the floor and slid under an armchair.
Patricia grabbed her by the shoulders.
—You’re an ungrateful brat.
—And you’re a liar —Daniela replied, trembling—. You were also the one who tore up Mom’s portrait.
Emiliano stopped when he heard that.
The portrait of Lucía, his late wife, had been found destroyed four months earlier. Patricia claimed that Martina had thrown it away during a tantrum.
Martina was punished for days, even though she swore it wasn’t her.
Patricia squeezed Daniela’s shoulders tighter.
—Your mother is dead. Get over it.
The living room door burst open.
—Take your hands off him.
Emiliano’s voice made the place vibrate.
Patricia went white.
Daniela stopped fighting. Martina ran towards her father, but stopped halfway, as if she didn’t know if she could trust him.
That small gesture hurt him more than any blow.
Emiliano approached slowly.
—I’m here, my love.
Martina finally ran to hug him.
Daniela didn’t do it.
He just pointed to the armchair.
—The recorder is downstairs.
Ramiro picked it up and kept it as evidence.
