Arriaga closed the notebook.
“You threatened Mariana with my name because you believed power would erase what she witnessed.
Now you are threatening me with appearances for the same reason.”
He picked up the study phone and contacted the estate’s security office.
Patricia’s confidence finally broke.
“You cannot remove me from my own house.”
“You will stay in the guest wing while counsel reviews the recordings and arranges a temporary protective agreement.
You will not be alone with Sophia or Diego.”
“You are destroying this family.”
“No,” Sophia whispered.
“You made us scared of it.”
Patricia looked at her daughter as though the child had betrayed her.
That look erased the last trace of doubt in Mr.
Arriaga’s face.
Security arrived at the end of the hallway.
They did not touch Patricia or speak harshly.
They simply waited while she realized that none of the authority she had borrowed from her husband would protect her from him now.
Before leaving, she pointed at me.
“This is your fault.”
I shook my head.
“No.
I only stopped one slap.”
Mr.
Arriaga’s voice came from beside me.
“The rest is on the recordings.”
Patricia was escorted toward the guest wing.
The moment she disappeared around the corner, Diego dropped his toy car.
The sound of plastic striking marble echoed through the hallway.
He stared at it, horrified, waiting for punishment.
No one shouted.
No one grabbed his arm.
Mr.
Arriaga picked up the car and placed it gently in his son’s hands.
“Accidents are allowed,” he said.
Diego looked at him for several seconds.
Then he began to cry.
This time, he made noise.
Mr.
Arriaga sat on the floor and opened his arms, but he did not pull the boy toward him.
Diego made the choice himself.
He crossed the space and climbed into his father’s lap.
Sophia remained beside me.
“Are you leaving?” she asked.
I looked at the red mark on my neck reflected in the polished wall.
I had spent the entire confrontation expecting someone to tell me to pack my things.
“I don’t know,” I admitted.
Mr.
Arriaga looked up.
“You are not dismissed.”
Patricia’s words still rang in my head: Do you understand what my name can do to someone like you?
“I need more than that,” I said.
He seemed surprised.
So was I.
I took a breath.
“I need written confirmation that the agency will not receive a false complaint.
I need the medical cost for this injury covered.
