“I want everyone to meet my real family!” he was announcing to a small crowd of bewildered mid-level managers who plainly wished to be anywhere else.

“I finally cut ties with a sick, helpless wife who spent fifteen years living off my hard work!”

Claudia beamed at his side, clutching her designer bag.

But his parents, I noticed, did not look celebratory at all.

They looked frightened, and they were whispering at him urgently.

“Alejandro,” his mother was pleading, her voice shaking, “the bank froze the workshop’s line of credit this morning.