The girl who ate dinner alone while her whole family remained silent

Then her phone vibrated.

Miguel had sent a photograph.

It was an open wooden box on the desk. Inside were documents, several photographs, and a yellow envelope with Maya’s full name written in handwriting.

David enlarged the image.

In the corner of one of the documents was the stamp of a private clinic in San Antonio. Below it was a date: six months before Lucía’s death.

But what made David feel like the ground was disappearing beneath his feet was the document’s heading.

* Request for modification of guardianship of a minor. *

His own signature appeared at the bottom.

And next to it, a second signature that she immediately recognized.

Her mother’s.

David stared at the photograph on his phone until the letters began to blur.

I didn’t recall signing any document to modify Maya’s guardianship. Much less one related to a private clinic and dated six months before Lucía’s death.

“Mom, what is this?” she asked, showing the screen.

Victoria didn’t look at her phone.

—I don’t know what you’re talking about.

—Your signature is on the document.

—I signed hundreds of things during those months. Your father taught me how to help you with the family’s administrative matters.

—My father died twelve years ago.

—And yet he left responsibilities that I had to take on.

David felt the conversation was straying from the main question.

—What does a guardianship request have to do with a clinic?

Victoria approached to lower her voice.

—Don’t do this in front of everyone. You’re upset and Maya is listening.

—Maya has heard enough about you.

He put the phone away and called Miguel.

—I need you to photograph each page separately. Then close the box and don’t let anyone into my office.

“Understood,” Miguel replied. “There’s something else. The yellow envelope has a label from the Santa Isabel clinic. It seems to contain a medical file.”

David looked at his mother.

Victoria had stopped pretending to be calm. Her fingers moved nervously over the pearl necklace around her neck.

“Don’t open the envelope,” David ordered. “I’ll check it myself.”

The call ended.

—We’re leaving, Maya.

The girl got up from the chair, but Victoria stood between them and the exit.

—You can’t take her away like that.

David looked at her in disbelief.

-Sorry?

—Maya is under my care tonight. If you take her away in the middle of a crisis, everyone will think you’ve lost control.

—I am his father.

—And I am the person who has kept this family together.

—Don’t confuse keeping a family together with forcing everyone to obey you.

Victoria clenched her jaw.

—Lucía didn’t understand that either.

His wife’s name fell on the conversation like a broken glass.

David took a step towards his mother.

—Don’t ever use my wife’s name again to justify what you’re doing to my daughter.

—You don’t know what really happened before Lucia died.

Maya raised her head.

David remained still.

—What did you just say?

Victoria seemed to realize her mistake too late.

—Nothing. I’m tired.

—You just said that I don’t know what happened before his death.

—I was talking about her last few months. Lucía was under a lot of pressure.

—What pressure?

Victoria looked towards the guests.

—I don’t intend to discuss my daughter-in-law’s affairs with all these people.

Elena got up.

—Victoria, we’re all here because you organized this dinner. But I think David deserves an explanation.

—Sit down, Elena!

“No,” Elena replied, her voice trembling but firm. “I saw how you treated Maya tonight. And I’m not going to pretend it’s normal.”

Roberto stood up too, although he seemed more concerned about the family’s reputation than about the girl.

—Victoria, maybe you should let them go.

She looked at him as if he had just betrayed her.

David took Maya’s hand and walked towards the door.

When they reached the lobby, the girl stopped in front of an antique console table. On it was a portrait of Lucia on her wedding day. She was wearing a lace dress and smiling, one hand resting on David’s arm.

Maya let go of her father’s hand and approached the portrait.

—Dad, that’s the photo that was in the box.

David turned around.

—Are you sure?

—Yes. But the one in the box was different. Mom was in the hospital and she was wearing a white bracelet. There was another woman next to her.

—Which woman?

Maya looked towards the dining room.

Victoria was watching them from the doorway.

—Grandma.

David felt a chill.

Her mother had never mentioned accompanying Lucía during a hospital stay. According to what she had always been told, her wife had gone for a routine medical check-up a few days before she died, and afterward, there had been no health problems related to that pregnancy that Maya vaguely remembered hearing about in family conversations.

—Honey, did you see anything else in that photo?

Maya nodded.

—There was a baby.

David crouched down to be at her level.

—A boy or a girl?

“I don’t know. He was wrapped in a white blanket. Mom was crying, but she didn’t seem sad. She seemed to want someone to come closer.”

—And who was with her?

—The grandmother. And a gentleman wearing a bathrobe.

David closed his eyes for a second.

Everything I thought I knew about Lucia’s last few months was beginning to crumble.

He took out the car keys and opened the front door.

—Let’s go home, my love. Tomorrow we’ll talk to someone who can help us understand these documents.

—Are you going to be angry with me for finding them?

The question pierced him.

David took her face in both hands.

Listen to me carefully. You’ll never get in trouble for telling me the truth. Never. Do you understand?

Maya nodded, and for the first time that night she hugged him without looking over her shoulder to check if Victoria was watching her.