The lawyer pulled out another folder.This one was dark blue, with my name printed on a white label.Memo stared at it as if it were a weapon.“What is that?”I didn’t answer right away. Instead, I took Doña Juana’s twelve hundred pesos and placed the bills in front of her one by one, like I was returning something sacred.“This was the only honest thing anyone gave me that week.”Doña Juana wiped her eyes with the corner of her apron.“Son, I didn’t come here for money. You told me there were papers about my stove.”Susana gave a poisonous little laugh.“How convenient. The old lady knew nothing, and now she’s about to win a prize.”Doña Juana lowered her head.Anger rose in me slowly, hot as steam from the ovens at dawn.“Don’t speak to her like that.”Memo slapped the table.“She’s a stranger. We’re your blood.”I stepped closer.My blood was eating steak while I was telling them I might lose an eye.”He went quiet.

The lawyer cleared his throat.As I was saying, Mr. Sebastián Rivas has formalized the purchase and donation, with lifetime usufruct, of the house on Abasolo Street in the Independencia neighborhood, in favor of Mrs. Juana Martínez. A maintenance fund of five million pesos has also been established for housing, food, and medical care.”Doña Juana stopped crying.For a moment, she looked like she had forgotten how to breathe.No, son.”Yes.”I can’t accept that.”You can, and you will. The roof over your house is failing, your stove leaks gas, and every time it rains, water runs through the wall. You shouldn’t have to sleep afraid that one spark will end everything.”Memo grabbed his hea.“Five million? For an old woman who gave you a thousand pesos?”“Twelve hundred,” I corrected. “And it was everything she had.”Susana stood up.“This is manipulation. That woman took advantage of you when you were weak.”Doña Juana stood too, trembling with shame.“I knew nothing about any prize, miss. I only saw a frightened man.”