Inside were property statements, investment summaries, partnership agreements, trusts, scholarship correspondence, and the villa deed.
I spread them across the table—not to count my money, but to remember the size of my own life.
Carla had reduced me to dresses, coupons, portions, and inexpensive gifts.
Hugo had allowed it because he had stopped asking who I was.
I called my younger sister Olivia.
“Margarita?”
“Come to San Diego for Christmas Eve.”
She laughed.
“To your apartment?”
“My new house.”
Silence.
“Your what?”
“I bought a house.”
“When?”
“Three days ago.”
“What kind of house?”
“Come and see.”
“Margarita, you sound strange.”
“I’m fine.”
“Are Hugo and Carla coming?”
“No.”
“What happened?”
“Carla decided I don’t have enough class to eat dinner with her parents.”
Olivia’s voice changed.
“Say that again.”
“I’ll explain when you get here.”
“You don’t have to ask twice.”
