Princesa: FUCK. YOU.
She makes things too easy. It’s always been like this. She’s only spoken to me a handful of times, and by spoken, I mean screamed into the phone. She’s never been in the same room with the tracker who watches her every move.
I feel a headache coming, so I take off my glasses and close my eyes.
I know there’s a good reason why Mama didn’t pick me up at the airport, but she isn’t answering the phone, and she didn’t send a car. I try again…no answer. I look up; the sky is cloudy; the smell of rain is in the air. It’s May in Colombia, one of the rainiest months. I just got back from visiting my best friend. Mama insisted I go.
A bad feeling settles in the pit of my stomach. I catch a cab and direct it to my house. The cab driver tries to make small talk, but I don’t pay attention. It takes twenty minutes to get home. As the cab pulls up, I see the kitchen light is on, but there’s something wrong. I feel it in my bones. It’s too quiet. Mama loves to play her salsa music when she cooks. I thank the driver, but he’s in a hurry to leave. He knows who lives here.
The front door is locked, but I have my spare key. Once it’s unlocked, I take the first step, and my shoe steps on something. There’s a discarded bouquet of flowers on the floor.
I open my eyes, remembering where I am. Shit, I haven’t dreamed of that night in so long. Seeing how close Veronica was to being hurt brought back memories I wish I could forget. My heart aches. The only family I have is Tia Susana, but it’s not like we can talk about what happened. After my parents’ death, Tia Susana was devastated. Besides me, my mother was all she had. I miss her so goddamn much. Unlike Veronica, who runs and distances herself from her mother, I’d give anything to have mine back.
I’m sitting across from my lawyer, Gerald. He’s going on about my involvement, or lack of, in the family business. I have Tia Susana manage that. I’ve been so close to selling it; there’s one buyer in particular who’svery interested. I consider giving it to my Tia, but I can’t bring myself to do it, not yet.
This is giving me a headache. “Gerald,” I interrupt his speech, “I’m not going to sell it, at least not right now. If and when I decide to, you will be the first person to know.”
“Miles, I hope I’m not speaking out of turn.” That’s what people who speak out of turn say before they’re going to say something that will most likely piss someone off. “You need to get involved. It’s your parents’ legacy.”
“Really, Gerald, I thoughtIwas their legacy?”
“Do I need to remind you of the options available? It will take one call, and then it’s settled.”
“I know my options, Gerald. Like I said,ifI decide to sell, they will be my first call. Honestly, Gerald.” He isn’t going to like this part. “I thought about giving it to my aunt.”
He furrows his brow, shocked at my admission. “Why would you do that?”
“Why wouldn’t I? She gave up her life to raise me. She deserves something.”
“But, Miles, she has everything.Youmade sure of that.”
“My mother would have wanted me to take care of her.” He’s about to respond, but we’re interrupted by a knock on the door. “Well, Gerald, that’s my time.”
“Miles, can you consider your involvement? For the sake of your parents?”
I hate when he pulls that card. The family business has never felt mine. I nod and walk out the door.
Veronica
Chapter 6
Berenice invited me toher place for dinner to apologize for not answering my call a couple of days ago. No apology necessary; I know I’d have managed to find trouble one way or another, with or without her. I’ve been on edge since that night. What if someone else had opened the letter? What if they sent it to someone else besides me? I’m driving myself out of my mind. There was no return address and no extortion letter. Whoever did this is trying to fuck with me, and it’s working.
“I hope you’re hungry.” Berenice’s voice brings me out of my spiraling thoughts. I’m really not, but I don’t tell her that. I don’t have much of an appetite, well, except for the dessert I baked. I made her favorite for tonight.
“I can’t wait,” I lie. “I brought brownies with ice cream. How does that sound?” I see my friend light up because I know for a fact it’s one of her favorite desserts. I look at Berenice; even though we’re the sameage, she looks much younger than me. We are what some call full-figured, but we say curvy. Although Ifeignconfidence in my body, I know she is confident in hers. She loves to wear clothes that accentuate her figure. Unlike me, Bere has never hyperfixated on what she eats. I count every calorie; that’s why I save all mine for the sweets.
“Hey, Bere, do you remember when we first met?”
“Oh god, yes. How could I forget? I was the new girl at school. Where it was obvious I didn’t belong.”
“You belonged,” I tell her as I carry our dinner plates to the living room. We are getting ready to watch one of our favorite chick flicks.
“Vee, I totally didn’t belong. Not only was I the new, chubby girl in school, but I was also the charity case. I was at school on a scholarship.” She looks down at her plate. “You were the only one who ever showed me any kindness.”
I remember when she first arrived at the coed boarding school. It was our senior year, and everyone thought it was odd to transfer with only one year remaining, but we didn’t ask questions. I felt sorry for her and thought that she was unhappy because of the way she looked, but when I got to know her, I realized I was so wrong. Her unhappiness stems from something much deeper. Something I could never understand—abandonment. After graduating, she headed to college and got her degree in social services. While I took a year off and then dropped out after freshman year. We always kept in touch during her college days and my partying.
“Whatever happened to that guy you met the summer after high school?”
