Elena took a step closer.
—To support this family.
—Including Valentina’s riding lessons?
Her eyes narrowed.
—My daughter is also part of this family.
—But my mom wasn’t his mother.
The slap never came.
Elena raised her hand, but stopped when she heard Roberto’s voice from the bottom of the stairs.
—Put that hand down.
She turned around slowly.
My father was holding a blue folder that I had never seen before.
“What is that?” Elena asked.
—Gabriela’s account file.
For the first time, my stepmother seemed genuinely scared.
—Where did you get it?
—From my office. Where I stored it after the bank sent me a notification.
—Roberto, don’t do this in front of Sofia.
—Why? Because he might find out that someone used an authorization that I never signed?
Elena paled.
I slowly descended the last few steps.
—What authorization?
My father opened the folder and took out three sheets of paper. There were bank statements, a copy of a transfer, and a document with several official stamps.
—When your mother died, the money was protected through a trust for your studies. I could manage certain expenses, but not withdraw the capital without meeting specific conditions.
—And the two hundred and forty thousand dollars?
Roberto pointed out the transfer.
—They closed that account four years ago.
—Who removed them?
My father looked at Elena.
She stepped back.
—I didn’t steal anything!
—I haven’t told you to do it yet.
—Then stop looking at me like that!
Valentina appeared in the room, dropping the phone on the sofa.
—Mom, what’s happening?
Elena did not respond.
Roberto placed the document on the table.
—The transfer was authorized with a signature that supposedly belonged to Gabriela. But there’s a problem.
I leaned over the sheet.
-Which?
—Your mother died in November 2020.
Roberto indicated the date of the authorization.
June 2022.
I felt my legs giving out.
—That’s impossible.
—Exactly —my father replied.
Elena began to shake her head.
—You don’t know what you’re looking at. That document could be wrong.
“The bank verified the date,” Roberto said. “And the lawyer just confirmed something else.”
He took another sheet of paper out of the folder.
It was a copy of a request to change the beneficiary, submitted months before the transfer.
The trust account number was displayed at the top.
Below appeared the name of the person who had requested to modify it.
It wasn’t Elena.
It wasn’t Roberto either.
It was Valentina.
My stepsister looked at the paper and her face went completely pale.
“That doesn’t mean anything,” he whispered.
Roberto looked up at her.
—Then explain to me why your signature appears on an account that belonged to Gabriela.
Valentina opened her mouth.
But before I could answer, my father’s phone vibrated on the table.
He was his lawyer.
Roberto answered and turned on the speakerphone.
A male voice filled the room.
—Roberto, I found the original document you requested. There’s something you need to know before accusing anyone. The transfer of two hundred and forty thousand dollars wasn’t the only irregular transaction.
My father gripped the edge of the table.
—How many were there?
The lawyer remained silent for a second.
—Seven. And the last one was done just three weeks ago.
I looked at Elena.
Then to Valentina.
My graduation was that very afternoon, but suddenly the destroyed dress seemed like the smallest problem of all.
Because if my mother’s money had continued to disappear for years, someone was still taking it out of the account.
And that person had just made a mistake.
I had left a trail that my father was no longer willing to ignore.
