PART 2
For a few seconds, not even the rain could be heard.
Elena placed the tray on a side table. She looked at the yellow sun on Rodrigo's cheek, the crooked blue cloud, and that red line above his nose. She didn't see a childish prank. She saw the overdue rent and the possibility of losing his job.
"Sir, please forgive me," he said, his voice breaking. "Sofia doesn't understand. I'll clean it up, I'll pay whatever I have to pay. It wasn't with bad intentions."
Sofi lowered the paintbrush.
—Yes, it was with good intentions.
Rodrigo sat down slowly. He wasn't angry. That puzzled him more than any anger. He touched his cheek and looked at the yellow on his fingers.
—Why did you say I was sad?
Sofi hugged Captain.
—Because my mom makes that same face when she thinks I've fallen asleep. Her mouth is calm, but her eyes are noisy.
Elena closed her eyes.
That phrase left her exposed.
Rodrigo remembered details he had previously ignored: Elena kept half of her food, answered calls in a low voice, and checked her cell phone with fear after 4 a.m.
"Is someone bothering her?" he asked.
Elena tensed up.
—I didn't come here to cause you trouble.
Before he could insist, a harsh voice filled the hallway.
—What a moving picture.
Ignacio Cárdenas appeared at the entrance with two investors. He wore a navy blue jacket, had the smile of an owner, and the confidence of a man accustomed to giving orders.
The three of them looked at Rodrigo with his face painted.
One of the investors looked down to avoid laughing.
Ignacio did not hold back.
—I warned you, Rodrigo. First you bring the child in, then they turn your house into a kindergarten in a low-income neighborhood.
Elena put Sofi behind her.
—It was my responsibility, sir. Don't blame my daughter.
"I'm not asking for your permission to give my opinion," Ignacio replied. "And you, Rodrigo, should check your safe. These people learn quickly where the valuables are."
Elena's eyes burned.
—I have never touched anything that is not mine.
—That's what they all say. Then they think they're part of the family because they're allowed in the kitchen.
The phrase landed like a blow.
Rodrigo stood up. He still had a sun on his cheek, but the tenderness had faded from his face.
—Dude, that's enough.
Ignacio let out a short laugh.
—Is that enough? They're disrespecting you in front of important partners.
—You're the one being disrespectful.
The silence changed hands.
That morning, his assistant had sent him a strange report: nighttime access to his office, copies of blueprints, and payments to suppliers no one knew about. The password belonged to Ignacio. Rodrigo wanted to believe it was a mistake.
Now I understood.
His uncle's cruelty wasn't character traits. It was a smokescreen.
Rodrigo took the remote control for the security system and turned on the screen in the hallway. Elena saw dates, cameras, times. She didn't understand everything, but she felt that something serious was about to break.
The video showed Ignacio entering the office at 11:43 the previous night. He wasn't alone. A man wearing a cap was waiting for him by the desk. Ignacio opened a drawer, took out a black folder, and photographed it page by page with his cell phone.
One of the investors murmured:
—That's the Emerald Valley file.
Ignacio lost color, but quickly recovered his voice.
—That video is out of context.
Rodrigo clenched his jaw.
—It is also out of context that they used my digital signature to authorize payments to a shell company registered in your driver's name.
Sofi asked in a low voice:
Did the elegant gentleman steal?
No one answered.
Ignacio pointed a finger at Elena.
"This is her fault. Ever since that woman arrived, she softened you. She turned you against your own flesh and blood."
Rodrigo felt ashamed. Not because of the painting. Because he had believed a man who called expediency "blood."
"No," he said. "She worked. Her daughter painted. You stole."
Ignacio approached with his teeth clenched.
—Think carefully. If you bring me down, it will tarnish your family name.
—My family name was already tarnished. I'm just going to stop sweeping it under the rug.
Then Rodrigo called security and his lawyer. Ignacio tried to snatch the cell phone, but a bodyguard stopped him. The investors moved away as if the elegance of the hallway smelled like sewage.
Elena wanted to leave.
—Sir, I shouldn't be here.
Rodrigo looked at her. For the first time, not as a boss, but as someone who had just seen a truth thanks to a girl in purple boots.
—You're staying. I need you to listen to something.
He opened another file on the screen. It was a recording. Ignacio's voice sounded clear, mocking, cruel.
"Leave the cleaning lady alone. She's a distraction. If something goes missing, she'll take the blame. She has a daughter, lives far away, and no one will believe her."
Elena felt the floor disappear.
She had been chosen as the culprit before the crime was committed.
Sofi looked at her mom crying and raised the paintbrush towards Rodrigo.
—Should I make him look angry now too?
Rodrigo couldn't answer.
Because right then the company lawyer arrived with 2 auditors, and Elena saw something worse than anger on Ignacio's face: fear.
What do you think Rodrigo should do now: protect Elena even if it affects his family, or remain silent to save his family name?
