"Santiago," she said, patting my shoulder like she was comforting me. "It’s not that Mateo doesn’t want to help you."
You know how important his girlfriend’s family is. If something happens because he’s late, who’s responsible? We have to think ahead and avoid trouble whenever we can, right?" she asked.
My daughter’s worsening condition made me feel like I was going insane. I tried begging to Mateo one last time, "Mateo, please. I’ll find someone else to send your girlfriend home. Your niece, she’s been coughing up blood. Just this once ... please, have a little heart!"
Mateo just stood there and leaned lazily against the edge of the table.
"That won’t work for me. Why should I care if she’s not mine?"
Next to him his girlfriend, Camilla, handed him a glass of wine. Mateo took it and downed it in one gulp. He did it right in front of me. It was a deliberate act of mockery.
My heart shattered. They were cut from the same cloth, this family of mine. I knew my cousin and aunt never had any kindness toward me, so I could only turn to my mom as my last hope.