Chapter 2: The Silent House of Lies
The silence on the other end of the line was heavier than the storm outside. Mauricio held the phone to his ear, his knuckles turning white. He could hear the faint sound of a television playing a comedy show in Verónica’s house—a sharp, sickening contrast to the sterile smell of the hospital hallway where his mother was fighting for her life.
"Verónica?" Mauricio’s voice was a dangerous whisper. "Say something."
Finally, a click. She had hung up.
Mauricio’s blood boiled. He looked through the glass window of the intensive care unit. Doña Refugio lay motionless under layers of heated blankets, an IV drip connected to her frail arm. The image of his proud, hardworking mother reduced to this shattered state broke something inside him. He needed answers, and he knew he wouldn't get them over the phone.
Leaving his trusted childhood friend, Javier, to watch over his mother at the clinic, Mauricio got back into his truck. He drove through the midnight rain toward Verónica’s house on the wealthier side of Santa Cruz de los Encinos. The bright red pickup truck Efraín had proudly posted on Facebook was parked in the driveway, its polished chrome gleaming under the streetlights.
Mauricio didn't knock. He slammed his shoulder against the front door, bursting into the brightly lit living room.
Verónica and Efraín were sitting on their brand-new leather sofa. Verónica jumped up, her face pale, while Efraín slowly stood, trying to look intimidating.
"Mauricio! What is wrong with you? This is breaking and entering!" Verónica yelled, though her voice trembled.
"Where is she, Verónica?" Mauricio demanded, stepping closer. The mud from the well was still dripping from his boots onto their expensive new rug. "You told me she was asleep. You told me she was fine. She was dying in a dry well for three days!"
"It was an accident!" Efraín chimed in, stepping in front of his wife. "The old lady wanders off. She’s getting senile. We didn't know she was out there."
"An accident?" Mauricio laughed, a cold, humorless sound. "Then why did Verónica lie to me five minutes ago and say Mom was asleep in her bed? Why hasn't anyone reported her missing?"
Verónica looked away, unable to meet her brother's eyes. "Mauricio, you don't understand the pressure we've been under. Mom was... she was becoming a burden."
"A burden?" Mauricio felt a wave of pure disgust. "She raised us by herself! She sold barbacoa in the freezing cold so you could go to school! And this is how you repay her?"
Before either of them could answer, Mauricio noticed a stack of legal documents on the coffee table. He lunged forward and grabbed them before Efraín could stop him. His eyes scanned the bold text at the top of the pages. It was a deed of transfer for Doña Refugio’s modest land and her traditional recipe rights, signed over to Verónica and Efraín.
But the signature at the bottom didn't look right. The lines were shaky, forced, as if someone had dragged an unwilling hand across the paper.
"You forced her to sign her land over to you," Mauricio realized, the pieces finally falling into place. "And when she threatened to tell me, you got rid of her."
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"Get out of our house, Mauricio," Efraín threatened, pulling out his phone. "Or I'll call the police."
"Go ahead," Mauricio said, throwing the papers back onto the table. "Call them. Because tomorrow morning, the whole town will know exactly what kind of monsters you are."
