Maria Luisa pressed her fingers against her skirt.
—I already said I’m not going to sign.
The man smiled without joy.
—You’ve been signing worse things for 12 years.
The sentence landed in the room like a stone. Teresa looked at her daughter, searching for an immediate explanation.
Maria Luisa didn’t look at her.
One of the women opened a folder and took out papers with red stamps, passport copies, photographs, and sheets full of numbers.
—If he doesn’t sign today, everything will be handed over to immigration, the press, and the prosecutor’s office.
Teresa could barely understand a few words, but she understood enough. Threat. Papers. Scandal. Punishment.
“She doesn’t sign anything,” Teresa said.
Everyone turned around.
Maria Luisa paled.
The man looked her up and down, with dangerous patience.
—And who are you?
Teresa felt her daughter staring at her, pleading for silence. But she also remembered another image.
Maria Luisa at the airport, hugging her as if she were leaving her soul in her arms.
And he remembered 12 Christmases with an empty plate.
—I am his mother.
The silence was so profound that even the truck’s engine seemed to fade away.
Maria Luisa closed her eyes, defeated.
The man didn’t seem surprised. He simply tucked a sheet of paper into the folder.
—Then the missing piece arrived.
Teresa stepped forward.
—I don’t know what’s happening, but my daughter is coming with me.
The young man on the phone let out a brief laugh.
—Ma’am, this is not a Mexican novel.
Teresa looked at him with a calmness she didn’t even know she possessed.
—No. It’s worse. Because it’s real.
Maria Luisa lowered her head. For the first time since she arrived, she seemed more like a daughter than an adult.
The man in the suit placed the folder on the table.
—Her daughter agreed to work for Mr. Kang 12 years ago. It wasn’t marriage. It was a front.
Teresa felt the floor move.
—Facade of what?
Maria Luisa spoke before he did.
—Business. Accounts. Companies that weren’t in my name, but used my signature.
His voice was low and dry, as if he had repeated that confession in his mind thousands of times.
Kang needed a foreigner with no connections here, someone easy to control, someone who seemed grateful.
Teresa put a hand to her mouth.
—And did you accept?
The question came out with more pain than accusation.
Maria Luisa finally looked at her.
—I accepted because you said you owed 300,000 pesos for Dad’s operation.
Teresa remained motionless.
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