“We must keep complete decorum in front of the court officers, Elena,” Doña Victoria said as she stopped in front of my bench.

Her voice was light and musical, put on entirely for the benefit of the two uniformed bailiffs standing ten feet away by the oak courtroom doors.

She dropped the heavy gold box into my lap.

“A small gesture of goodwill, so you can’t say the Mendoza family sent you out into the world with nothing.”

I untied the thin ribbon and lifted the lid.

Inside lay a single silver coffee spoon on a bed of white tissue paper.