Chapter 2: The Birthday Party That Wasn't Hers
“My birthday was in March,” Sofia said.
I remembered the date before she finished the sentence.
March seventeenth.
I had called home that evening from a truck stop outside Querétaro. Patricia had answered on the second ring, cheerful and breathless, with music playing in the background.
She had told me Sofia was asleep.
I had accepted that explanation because I was tired, the highway was closed ahead, and I had another delivery scheduled for the morning.
Now, sitting across from my daughter, I understood how little I had actually known.
“You told me you were asleep,” I said.
Sofia shook her head.
“I wasn't.””
Her fork scraped against the plate.
“I was outside.””
“Outside where?””
“In the backyard.””
I couldn't speak.
She took a breath and continued.
“Patricia told me I couldn't come inside until I apologized to Bianca. She said I had embarrassed the family because I wouldn't give Bianca my new headphones.””
“What headphones?””
“The ones you sent me for my birthday.””
I remembered buying them at an electronics store during a delivery in Mexico City. Sofia had asked for them months earlier, but I had wanted to surprise her.
“You never told me you got them.””
“Patricia said they were too expensive for me to keep. She gave them to Bianca.””
I felt my jaw tighten.
“Why did you have to apologize?””
“Bianca said I was selfish. She told Patricia I had called her a thief.””
“Had you?””
“No. I asked for the headphones back.””
Sofia pressed her lips together.
“Patricia said I was ungrateful. Then she told me to stand outside until I learned how to behave.””
I put down my coffee.
“How long were you out there?””
“I don't know. A few hours.””
“In March?””
She nodded.
The evenings in León could turn cold after sunset. I pictured my daughter sitting in the backyard, listening to laughter through a window, while the people who were supposed to care for her celebrated without her.
“Why didn't you call me?””
“They took my phone.””
“Who did?””
“Patricia.””
I stared at her.
“My phone was in her bedroom. She said I couldn't have it back until I stopped trying to make Bianca feel bad.””
“Did you tell Grandma Rosa?””
Sofia gave a small, humorless laugh.
“She was the one who brought the cake.””
I looked down at the table.
The picture in my mind became painfully clear. A decorated dining room. Candles.
Music. A cake I had helped pay for through the household account.
And my daughter outside in the dark.
“What happened when you came inside?”” I asked.
“Everyone had already eaten cake. Bianca opened the gifts. They were laughing about something she had said.””
“What did Patricia tell you?””
Sofia looked at her hands.
“She said I should be happy Bianca had a nice birthday. Then she gave me the plates to wash.””
“But it was your birthday.””
“I know.””
The way she said it was worse than if she had cried.
I stood and walked to the sink, gripping the edge of the counter until my knuckles whitened.
For seven years, I had tried to make sure Elena's absence didn't define Sofia's life. I had saved money for her education, worked extra routes for her school expenses, and called whenever I could.
I had believed my sacrifices were helping her.
All the while, someone had been teaching her that she didn't deserve the simplest kindness.
I turned around.
“Who else knows about this?””
“No one.””
“Your teachers?””
Sofia shook her head.
“Patricia answers their calls. She tells them I'm shy and don't like talking to adults.””
“Your friends?””
“I don't really see them anymore.””
“Why not?””
“Bianca tells everyone I'm weird. She says I steal things and lie about her.””
I pulled out the chair beside Sofia and sat down.
“Tell me about the bruises.””
Her face tightened.
“Sometimes Bianca gets angry.””
“Angry about what?””
“Anything.””
She described how Bianca would enter her room without knocking, take her clothes, and accuse her of hiding things. If Sofia objected, Bianca would raise her voice until Patricia came running.
Patricia never asked what had happened.
She simply punished Sofia for upsetting her niece.
Once, Bianca had shoved Sofia against the kitchen counter because Sofia refused to hand over a bracelet Elena had left her.
Another time, Bianca had grabbed her arm hard enough to leave marks when Sofia tried to retrieve her own schoolbag.
“Did Patricia see that?”” I asked.
“She was standing right there.””
“And what did she do?””
“She told me not to provoke Bianca.””
I felt the room tilt around me.
“Did Patricia ever hit you herself?””
Sofia went silent.
I didn't repeat the question.
I waited.
Finally, she said, “Once. Maybe twice.””
“Tell me what happened.””
“She slapped me when I said Bianca had taken money from your desk.””
My stomach turned.
“How much money?””
“I don't know. I saw her take some bills from your wallet. I told Patricia.””
“And she hit you?””
Sofia nodded.
“She said I was making up stories because I was jealous of Bianca.””
I leaned back, forcing myself to keep my voice level.
“Did you see Bianca take money again?””
“Yes.””
“When?””
“Last week.””
I looked at the calendar on the refrigerator. Patricia and the others had left for Cancún two days earlier, leaving Sofia behind.
“What did she take last week?””
“Your spare keys. And some papers from your desk.””
“What papers?””
“I don't know. She put them in her backpack.””
“Did you tell Patricia?””
“She said if I kept accusing Bianca, she'd send me to live with one of your relatives.””
I rubbed my face.
Patricia knew exactly which threat would hurt my daughter most. Sofia had already lost her mother. The possibility of losing her home, too, was enough to silence her.
I took a slow breath.
“Okay. We'll deal with that. But I need to understand something. Why were you washing everyone's clothes last night?””
Sofia's shoulders curled inward.
“Because I spilled juice on Bianca's dress.””
“What dress?””
“The blue one she wanted to wear on vacation.””
“Was it an accident?””
“I knocked over a glass when she pushed past me. The juice got on the hem.””
I closed my eyes briefly.
“And Patricia told you to wash everything?””
“She said if Bianca couldn't wear the dress, she'd make sure I regretted it.””
“Did she hurt you?””
Sofia didn't answer.
I looked at the bruises again in my memory.
“Did Bianca?””
“She grabbed me when I tried to explain.””
Sofia's voice became smaller.
“She said I always ruin things for her.””
I stood, walked to the refrigerator, and took out a bottle of water. I set it beside her plate.
“Drink some water, sweetheart.””
She obeyed.
Then I asked the question I had been avoiding.
“Has this been happening since Patricia married me?””
Sofia stared at the table for a long time.
“No.””
I felt a small, desperate sense of relief.
Then she continued.
“It got worse after you started taking longer routes.””
The relief vanished.
“Why?””
“Patricia said you needed to work harder because I was expensive.””
I sat very still.
“She said that?””
“She said you already had to pay for my school, my food, and the house. She said Bianca's mother couldn't afford to help, so we had to make sacrifices.””
“Did Patricia stop buying you things?””
Sofia nodded.
“She said I was too old to need new clothes. Bianca got new shoes, but I had to wear mine even when they hurt.””
She lifted one foot slightly beneath the table.
The sneaker was worn through at the heel.
I had sent money for new school shoes three months earlier.
“Where did that money go?””
“I don't know.””
I knew.
Or rather, I knew enough to understand that the money I sent for my daughter might have been used to make someone else's life more comfortable.
I picked up my phone and opened the banking app.
There were transfers I didn't recognize. Several withdrawals from our joint household account. Payments to a beauty salon, a resort booking service, and a furniture store.
I had assumed Patricia was managing the household expenses.
Now I wondered whether every dollar I had sent home had become another weapon.
I photographed the transactions on the screen and saved copies of the account statements.
Sofia watched me.
“Are you going to call Patricia?””
“Not yet.””
“She's going to be furious when she finds out you're home.””
“Let her be furious.””
She shook her head.
“You don't understand. When she's angry, she doesn't stop.””
I looked directly at her.
“Then we make sure you aren't alone with her.””
For the first time that morning, Sofia's shoulders relaxed slightly.
I asked her to show me where she kept her schoolbooks. We went upstairs together.
Her bedroom looked almost normal at first glance. The bed was neatly made. A small lamp sat on the desk. Her schoolbag rested against the wall.
But the room felt empty.
The shelves that had once held her books were nearly bare. Her favorite photographs were missing. The drawer where she kept her hair clips stood open, containing only a few loose items.
“Where are your things?”” I asked.
“Patricia said I didn't need so much clutter.””
I opened the closet.
Half her clothes were gone.
“Where did they go?””
“Bianca wanted some of them.””
I stared at the empty hangers.
Sofia stepped around me and pointed to a shoebox beneath her bed.
“I kept these.””
Inside were several photographs, a small silver bracelet, and a folded letter.
The bracelet had belonged to Elena.
I picked it up carefully.
“Did anyone try to take this?””
“Bianca did. I hid it.””
I placed the bracelet back in the box.
“We'll find somewhere safe for this.””
Sofia's expression changed.
“Dad, there's something else.””
I turned toward her.
“What is it?””
She looked at the bedroom door, then lowered her voice.
“Patricia keeps a notebook in her room. She writes things about me in it.””
“What kind of things?””
“I don't know everything. But sometimes she reads it to Bianca and laughs.””
A chill passed through me.
“What did you hear?””
Sofia swallowed.
“She wrote down every time I did something wrong. Even things I didn't do. She said it was proof that I couldn't live here anymore.””
“Did she say where you'd go?””
Sofia nodded slowly.
“She said she'd send me away before you could find out what was happening.””
I felt something cold settle behind my ribs.
“Did she ever mention a date?””
“No.””
“Did she say anything else about that notebook?””
Sofia looked at me with an expression I couldn't understand.
“There's a picture inside it,” she whispered.
“A picture of you signing something.””
I froze.
“What did I sign?””
“I don't know. But Patricia told Bianca that once you signed the last paper, everything would finally be theirs.””
Before I could ask another question, my phone rang.
Patricia's name filled the screen.
I answered and switched on the recording function.
“Hello, sweetheart,” she said brightly.
“How's everything at home?””
I looked at my daughter.
“Fine,” I said.
“Is Sofia behaving?””
The sweetness in Patricia's voice made my skin crawl.
“She seems tired.””
“Well, she has a lot to learn about responsibility. Don't let her manipulate you. She always acts innocent when she's caught doing something wrong.””
I said nothing.
Patricia laughed lightly.
“Anyway, I need you to check something for me. There's a folder in my bedroom closet. White folder, red label. Don't move anything else in there.””
My grip tightened around the phone.
“What's in it?””
“Just some household paperwork.””
“Why do you need it?””
“Gabriel, please. I'm on vacation. I don't have time to explain every little thing.””
I glanced at Sofia.
She had gone pale.
Patricia's voice dropped.
“And whatever you do, don't let Sofia into my bedroom. She has no business touching my things.””
The call ended.
I stared at the phone.
Then I looked at my daughter.
“What was in that picture you saw?””
Sofia hugged herself.
“I don't know, Dad.””
She paused.
“But I heard Patricia say something last night before they left.””
“What?””
May you like
Sofia's eyes filled with tears.
“She said the house would be hers soon, and then she wouldn't have to pretend to love me anymore.””
