“Don’t leave, Mom.

Your part isn’t finished.”

An audio file from the hospital played, and her voice came through it perfectly clear: the plan to sign on Friday, take the company, and then authorize them to stop keeping me alive — and that she wasn’t going to spend money on an expensive funeral.

Adriana began to cry.

“I was desperate.

He manipulated me.” “Did he manipulate you into booking a trip on my card, too?” The screen showed the charge, and then Ximena’s jewelry, and then Emiliano’s transfers, one after another, a family’s greed rendered as a tidy column of numbers.