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A forged deed transfer filed two years ago, attempted through a corrupt contact in a nearby office.
Tomás didn’t just steal your money.
He tried to steal your parents’ house too.
But the filing is sloppy.
And your attorney smiles for the first time when she sees it.
“This,” she says, tapping the paper, “is what ends him.”
The court case is ugly. Tomás cries on the stand. He says he was “helping.” He says you abandoned them. He tries to make your success look like cruelty.
But evidence doesn’t care about drama.
Your mother shows the bruises.
Your father shows the forged signatures.
Lucerito, protected, speaks through a counselor’s report about the pantry lock, the shouting, the fear.
The judge doesn’t smile when he announces the sentence.
And for the first time in fifteen years, you watch a door close on Tomás.
Not your parents’ door.
His.