“There isn’t any,” Oscar said, clearing his throat.

“Unless we put up other collateral to meet the bank’s liquidity threshold before Easter Sunday.”

Doña Victoria pulled a blue land registry deed from her file folder and laid it beside her coffee cup.

“This is the clear title to the mansion in Zapopan.”

Alejandro stood up so fast that his leather chair slid back against the mahogany wall paneling.

“Mother, you can’t pledge the family home.”