Rita, on the other hand, twice asked if Ana had given signs of wanting to discuss the property.
“I arrange that later,,s” Victor said.
You told me it was done.
I said I was going to do it.
The difference did not please Rita.
Victor leaned his head against the seat.
He still believed that the biggest problem he expected was an offended wife.
As he approached the street, he began to notice movement in front of the property.
First he saw a blackened section.
He then distinguished the windows without glass.
Then the dark gap appeared where a part of the second level was before.
Victor asked for the car to stop.
Rita stopped talking.
For several seconds neither of the two opened the door.
The three-level house that Victor had so safely described from his hospital bed was turned into a burnt, wet, and partially cordoned-off structure.
The garden had blackened remains.
A wall was stained with smoke.
The garage was still there, but it no longer looked like the entrance to the property that Victor had used as a currency to buy time with Rita.
“What happened?” she asked.
Victor did not answer.
He came down with difficulty.
Each step reminded him that he was barely leaving a transplant, but he kept moving forward until Teresa saw him from home.
The woman crossed the street.
Don Victor.
“Where is Ana?”
He didn’t even ask first about the fire.
Teresa noticed.
I don’t know where he is living.
Was she here when this started?
It took Teresa just a second to understand the accusation hidden in the question.
“Ana came out earlier.
Victor looked up.
“She’s sure?”
I saw her with her suitcase.
Teresa pointed to the avenue.
He was waiting for the bus on the other side. Then we saw the glow and started screaming.
Rita walked a few steps.
“So, she burned herself?”
Teresa looked at her without knowing who she was.
“I’m just telling you what I saw.
That was enough to destroy the first explanation Victor had begun to build on his head.
If Ana had set the fire, Teresa had just placed her off the property before the flames were visible.
Even so, Victor needed culprits.
He needed someone to have done that against him, because accepting that his life had become disordered without asking permission was much more difficult.
“She knew something,” he murmured.
Rita heard it.
“What do you mean?
“He took his stuff earlier.
Teresa intervened.
“He took a suitcase.
“Exactly.
A suitcase, Don Victor. His furniture was still inside.
Victor kept quiet.
Teresa had seen Ana go out carrying photographs, papers and personal belongings, but she had also seen the rooms still full.
No one who was deliberately trying to save all of his own would have left decades of belongings behind.
Rita looked back at the house.
His next question came too quickly.
Now what about what you promised me?
Victor turned to her.
He didn’t ask where he would sleep during recovery.
He didn’t ask if he was okay.
He didn’t ask what Ana had lost.
He asked about the promise.
For the first time, Victor heard his own words from the other side.
Three levels.
Garden.
Garage for two cars.
The least you deserve.
