Three days later they returned. I didn’t answer calls. I didn’t listen to audios. At 10 at night, they knocked on my door as if they were coming to claim stolen property.
—Open, Angelica! —Veronica shouted—. What the hell did you do with our apartment?
I took a deep breath. I looked at a photo of Mateo in his baseball uniform. Then I opened the door.
Part 2…
The four of them were on my porch: my mother with the face of a victim, my father confused, Rubén avoiding my eyes and Verónica red with fury, with one hand on her belly as if her pregnancy were a credential to trample anyone.
—We need to talk —my mother said, entering without permission.
—No —I answered—. They need to listen.
Veronica let out a bitter laugh.w
—Did you go crazy? Our things are lying around at my parents’ house. We can’t enter the apartment.
—It’s not your department anymore.
—We live there.
