I told her. All of it. The hotel call. The bank fraud alert. The charges. The attempted account access.
When I finished, she was quiet for a long time.
Then:
“I didn’t know.”
“She didn’t tell you?”
“She told me you invited me. She said you couldn’t go because of a medical issue and you wanted me to take your place so the trip wouldn’t be wasted.”
I closed my eyes.
“There’s no medical issue.”
“I know that now.”
Her voice cracked.
“Carmen, I am so sorry. I would never have agreed to this if I had known. I thought you were being generous.”
“I know.”
“What do I do? I’m standing in the airport. My suitcase is packed. Lucía is telling me we can fix this if we just call you together and apologize.”
“Blanca, she tried to steal from me.”
“I understand.”
“Do you?”
“Yes.” Her voice was firm now. “I have four daughters. If any of them did this to someone, I would be ashamed. I am ashamed.”
I heard shouting in the background. Lucía’s voice.
“I have to go,” Blanca said. “But Carmen, I want you to know something. You are not wrong. And I will not be getting on that plane.”
She hung up.
Five minutes later, I got a text from Javier.
Javier: Blanca left. She took her suitcase and got in a taxi. Lucía is losing her mind. Mom, please. Just reinstate the hotel. We’ll pay you back. I promise.
I stared at the message.
Then I turned off my phone.
I didn’t turn it back on for three days.
When I finally did, I had sixty-seven messages.
Most of them from Javier.
A few from Lucía.
None of them were apologies.
They were explanations. Justifications. Accusations.
