Chapter 4 - The House of Cards
The following week was a whirlwind of legal fire and public humiliation.
The local news outlets had a field day. “Prominent Businessman Arrested for Embezzlement and Child Neglect,” the headlines read. The story was everywhere. Sofia had indeed flipped immediately; as soon as she realized Ricardo’s money was frozen by the federal government, she walked into the station and handed over every document she had regarding his illegal schemes.
Doña Elvira, however, was a harder nut to crack. She barricaded herself in the Coyoacán house, refusing to leave, claiming the property was rightfully hers through “family law.”
Mariana didn't argue. She didn't shout. She simply arrived with a team of movers and a court-ordered eviction notice, accompanied by a social worker who had seen the state of Mateo’s living conditions.
When Mariana walked through the front door, the house was a mess. Elvira was screaming at the movers, her face purple with rage.
"This is my home! My son provided for me!"
Mariana walked calmly into the living room, holding the hand of a now-clothed, clean, and fed Mateo. He was wearing new shoes, and he was holding a stuffed toy. He looked at the chaos with wide eyes, but he stayed close to his mother. He no longer looked like an animal; he looked like a child again.
"It was never your home, Elvira," Mariana said, her voice clear and authoritative. "My parents built this. My father paid the deed. Your son was merely a guest who overstayed his welcome."
"You ruined us!" Elvira shrieked, pointing a finger at Mariana. "He was a prince! You turned him into a criminal!"
"He turned himself into a criminal when he decided to chain his own son to a doghouse," Mariana said, stepping forward. "The evidence of the neglect is already with Child Protective Services. You won't just be evicted today, Elvira. You will be facing charges as an accessory. You watched him do it. You fed the baby while my son starved. The law is very specific about that."
Elvira stumbled back, her face falling as she looked at the social worker standing in the doorway with a notepad. The weight of her reality finally descended upon her. There was no more Ricardo to shield her. There was no more house to hide in.
Mariana turned her attention to Mateo. "Do you want to say goodbye?"
Mateo looked at the house. He looked at the orange tree where he had spent months chained to the dirt. He didn't look sad. He just looked tired.
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"No," he whispered, his voice gaining strength. "I want to go home."
"We are going home," Mariana said, and for the first time in five years, she truly felt the words to be true.
