My sister-in-law, Fernanda, recorded stories for social networks:
“Beautiful family, ready to take off!”
I stayed in the doorframe.
“What’s going on?”
Mauricio spoke without looking at me.
“We’re leaving in an hour. Ten days. Europe.”
I felt the ground move under my feet.
“Are they leaving?”
Doña Estela sighed with false patience.
“Madrid, Barcelona… perhaps Paris. We deserve it.”
I looked at the clock.
“Today is my birthday.”
Mauricio closed the suitcase with a click.
“We celebrate when we return.”
At that moment my phone vibrated.
A notification from the bank.
A big retreat.
In the great… huge.
I opened the app.
The figure burned in my throat.
They were my savings.
Years of overtime.
Temporary contracts.
Weekends working while they slept.
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