Chapter 17 - ISABELLA RETURNS TO THE VILLA
Six months passed before Isabella asked to see the villa again.
I did not suggest it.
She did.
“Can we go in the daytime?”
she asked.
“Yes.”
“Can Marta come?”
“Yes.”
“Can we leave whenever I want?”
“Yes.”
That was the rule.
We entered through the front.
Isabella stopped in the foyer.
Her eyes moved toward the staircase.
Then toward the kitchen.
She took my hand.
I let her set the pace.
The laundry room was empty now.
I had removed the lock.
The chore chart was gone.
The cleaning equipment had been moved to proper storage.
Inside Isabella’s bedroom, everything had been restored.
Books.
Clothes.
Photographs.
The stuffed rabbit.
She picked it up.
Then looked at Elena’s repaired picture.
“I thought Beatriz threw this away.”
“She tried to make you think that.”
Isabella touched the frame.
“Mom wouldn’t like her.”
I smiled sadly.
“No.”
“I don’t think she would.”
We walked into the garden.
The dumpsters were gone.
I had them moved to the service road.
Not because trash containers were dangerous.
Because children remember places.
Isabella stood where I first saw her.
For a long time, neither of us spoke.
Then she said,
“I used to count.”
“Count what?”
“How many steps from the bags to the bin.”
“Why?”
“If I counted, I didn’t think about my hands.”
My throat tightened.
“How many?”
“One hundred and twelve.”
I looked across the garden.
It did not seem far.
That somehow made it worse.
She turned toward me.
“Dad?”
“Yes?”
“Why didn’t you know?”
Children ask the questions adults spend years avoiding.
I could have blamed Dubai.
Beatriz.
Mateo.
The blocked calls.
Instead, I gave her the only answer I believed she deserved.
“Because I trusted people I should have checked.”
“And because I was away too long without making sure I could speak to you privately.”
“That was my mistake.”
“Are you mad at yourself?”
“Yes.”
She thought about that.
“Dr. Ana says being mad doesn’t fix things.”
I almost laughed.
“She is very annoying sometimes.”
Isabella smiled.
Then she squeezed my hand.
“You came back.”
“Yes.”
“Early.”
“Yes.”
She looked toward the hedge where I had stood hidden that afternoon.
“What if you didn’t?”
I could not answer immediately.
Finally I said,
“Then I hope someone else would have helped.”
“But I am very grateful I came home when I did.”
She nodded.
May you like
Then she walked away from the place where the garbage bags had torn.
She did not look back.
