Chapter 3 - What I Was Supposed to Sign
I opened the folder before Mauricio could reach me.
The first page looked harmless.
MOVE-OUT INSPECTION.
The second was not.
It was a power of attorney giving Mauricio authority to borrow against the apartment, negotiate with lenders, and sign property documents in my name.
My signature line was blank.
Ofelia pointed at the paper. "That was only in case you agreed."
"Then why is it inside a folder labeled tomorrow?"
Mauricio took a step closer. "You were going to sign the apartment handover. This would have been included with the other pages."
I stared at him.
He had just admitted it.
"You were going to trick me."
"I was going to fix a temporary problem."
"By stealing my property?"
Ofelia rolled her eyes. "Don't be dramatic. Families share assets."
I slid the folder into my bag.
Mauricio blocked the door.
"You're not taking those."
"Move."
"Laura. Think carefully."
"I finally am."
For eleven years, every fight had ended the same way. His mother demanded. Mauricio translated her demand into a test of love. I gave in to keep peace.
That night, peace was no longer available.
I raised my phone.
"You're recording?" he asked.
"Since you walked into the bedroom."
He moved away from the door.
I left.
In my car, I called the bank listed on the papers.
The fraud department asked for the application number.
Then the woman on the line went quiet.
"Ms. Alvarez," she said, "this application was not rejected."
My fingers tightened around the steering wheel.
"What do you mean?"
"A revised version was approved three weeks ago."
My chest went cold.
"Approved for how much?"
She told me.
May you like
And I realized Mauricio had lied about the most important thing in that room.
The woman at the bank kept talking, but I barely heard her. She told me not to confront anyone, not to destroy any papers, and not to sign anything that arrived by courier. When she asked whether I felt safe going home, I looked through my windshield at the apartment building and understood how strange my life had become in less than two hours. That morning, I had been arguing about cleaning supplies. Now a bank was warning me not to sign my own name.
