“If you try to contest a single line, the theft charge gets filed tomorrow morning.”

I took the blue folder from her and put it in my tote bag without opening the cover.

“Not even one tear?” Paola mocked, leaning against the gatepost.

“You really are as heartless as my brother told everyone.”

“Tell your brother I’ll see him in court,” I said.

The question of who actually owned the commercial plaza where Mendoza Development kept its corporate offices would be answered soon enough, once Samuel filed our response.

I turned away from the gate and walked down the driveway in Zapopan, carrying a single small suitcase into the late afternoon rain.