From outside my house, my mother-in-law shouted, “Why is the gate closed?”… A minute later, my husband called me begging me to open it, and I told him, “Put me on speakerphone,” because his whole family was going to find out the truth.

The silence that followed was heavy, uncomfortable.

Then I added the final blow.

“And I didn’t change the locks just in case. I changed them because my house was broken into last week.”

A sharp gasp.

“The cameras recorded everything. You and Sergio entering the office. Opening drawers. Searching documents.”

“You don’t know what you’re saying,” Sergio muttered—but his voice faltered.

“Yes, I do. I saw you holding my yellow folder. I saw you opening the drawer with the deeds. I saw your mother rushing you.”

Now they were arguing among themselves.

Some questioned her.

Some stepped back.

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