“Mrs. Ríos, may I say something?”
“Go ahead.”
“In thirty years working in hospitality, I have seen this before. Family members who believe love is the same as permission. I am very sorry.”
I thanked him.
Hung up.
Then I called the private tour company.
Then the Florence hotel.
Then the Paris apartment.
Then the train service.
Every single reservation tied to my name, my card, my confirmation was canceled within the hour.
I didn’t feel powerful.
I felt hollow.
My phone buzzed again.
Lucía: You didn’t answer. Is everything fixed?
I didn’t reply.
An hour later, I received a call from an unknown number.
I almost didn’t answer.
But something told me to pick up.
“Mrs. Carmen Ríos?”
“Yes.”
“This is Amanda Salazar. I’m calling from the fraud department at your bank.”
My heart stopped.
“We’ve detected several declined charges on your card in the last forty-eight hours. All originating from a device registered to a Lucía Vargas. Is this your daughter?”
“My daughter-in-law.”
“I see. Mrs. Ríos, she attempted to add herself as an authorized user on your account three days ago. The request was flagged because the email address she provided did not match your security settings. Did you authorize this?”
“No.”
Silence on her end.
“Mrs. Ríos, I need to ask you directly. Do you feel safe?”
“I’m not in danger.”
“That isn’t what I asked.”
