“Enzo.”
His, on mine, sounds strangled. There is an uncomfortable silence.
“Listen,” he says, lowering his voice. “I only have five minutes to explain why I got you into all this.”
“How kind of you.”
I should know better than making fun of the situation, but I can’t stop the words from slipping out.
“I am quite the gentleman.”
“You told me it was a game,” I say.
I try to sound carefree, but my voice betrays me, the last words slicing through with an edge that comes off more aggressive than intended.
Enzo sighs.
“My mother… Listen, it was my fault. I told my mother about you long before all this happened.”
“Come on.”
An uncomfortable laugh escapes my lips. Enzo and his mother barely spoke to each other… and I’m supposed to believe that Enzo had told her about me?
I don’t believe it.
“I know it sounds weird… I spoke to Antonia only once in the last year, about paperwork for a family property, and… she asked me about my private life. My mother had never asked me about my private life before.”
“I don’t know if I want to know what I’m doing in thisstory,” I murmur.
“I told her there was a girl,” is all Enzo says.
I wasthe girl. A few days ago, that might’ve seemed cute, even flattering. But now that I knew who Enzo really was…
I felt more disgusted by the idea than I ever thought possible.
“So?”
“She asked me who the girl was, how I met her, what she studied… You know, typical motherly interrogation. I know I shouldn’t have told her anything, but…” Enzo pauses. I hear him swear under his breath. If you only knew how interested she seemed in my life for once…
I swallowed.
“Understood. You told your mother about me.” I want this call to end as soon as possible, although I’m also dying for answers. “Sowhat?”
“So nothing. I didn’t hear from Antonia again until her… death, I don’t know what to call it.”
“I don’t understand.”
“My mother left me a note before she left. In the note, she wished me luck and called me Malin. My mother has never used nicknames with me.”
I feel like I’m running out of air.
“It’s my name,” I manage to say.
Malín, my mum’s surname. My second surname. It appears everywhere, from ID to college reports to Saidi’s webpage.
“I know. She knew it, too.”
The note Enzo had left in my room, along with the money from the Club Montari, said something similar, with my full name.Good luck, Vera Rodríguez Malín.
