The mother-in-law invited 20 people to eat, but only gave her daughter-in-law 100 pesos for the market. When he lifted the lid of the plate in front of everyone, the entire table fell silent when he saw what was inside…

He only shouted from afar:

“Do your best, Maria. Don’t make my mom angry.

I took the money.

I left the house.

The neighborhood market was full of noise and people. Vendors shouted prices, plastic bags creaked, the smell of hot tortillas wafted through the air.

I opened my wallet again.

One hundred pesos.

A kilo of pork cost almost that.

Chicken was more expensive.

Even tomatoes had risen in price that week.

I walked among the stalls with a heavy heart.

I had money in my bank account.

I could use it.

I could buy meat, vegetables, rice, tortillas, prepare a decent meal. No one would know that I had put my own money.

Doña Carmen would look good in front of everyone.

The guests would eat happily.

Diego would be proud.

And I… I would still be the obedient daughter-in-law.

But as I walked among the market stalls, something began to grow inside me.