“Your sister must be very special,” Carmen remarked.
Elena answered proudly.
—He’s an artist, he paints beautiful pictures.
Meanwhile, Julian watched the scene in silence, growing increasingly intrigued.
He had taken his mother to fancy restaurants for years.
It was always the same story.
Confused waiters.
Incomplete conversations.
Awkward silences.
But that night was different.
His mother was happy.
Mrs. Herrera approached the table with her most artificial smile.
—Is everything to your liking, Mr. Valdés?
Julian nodded without taking his eyes off Elena.
—Yes, everything is perfect.
But the manager noticed something she didn’t like.
The waitress she always considered insignificant was now the center of attention at the most important table in the restaurant.
—Elena —he said in a tense voice—, remember that you have other tables.
Elena nodded respectfully.
—Yes, Mrs. Herrera.
But Carmen quickly raised her hand and spoke in sign language.
—I want her to see us.
Elena translated the message.
Julian looked at the manager with firm calm.
—My mother is right, we prefer that Elena continue with our table.
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