PART 1
“No one is stepping into my house today… because I already know exactly what you were planning to do to me.”
I said it calmly, without raising my voice, sitting in front of a cup of coffee at a small restaurant in the plaza, while on my phone screen I watched my furious mother-in-law standing outside my gate.
Just a minute earlier, Ofelia had been shouting from outside my country house on the outskirts of Atlixco:
“Why is the gate locked?!”
Then my husband called, irritated—as if the problem were mine.
“Mariana, where are you? We came to celebrate my mom’s birthday and can’t get in. We brought the cake, the food, even my aunts… what’s going on?”
I smiled as I watched the live camera feed. There they were: Ofelia in her wine-colored dress clutching her oversized bag; Sergio, sweating nervously; his aunts whispering; two nieces inflating gold balloons; a cousin holding a speaker like they already owned the place.
“Put me on speaker,” I said. “I want everyone to hear this.”
The murmurs stopped.
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