Chapter 6 - WHY ISABELLA HAD TO STAY QUIET
I called only one person.
Gabriel Navarro.
My attorney.
Not company email.
Not the office.
His private number.
“Do not call Mateo.”
I told him.
“Do not tell anyone I’m home.”
Gabriel went silent.
“What happened?”
“I need you in Marbella tonight.”
I sent photographs of the sale agreement.
He swore.
Then I called a pediatric doctor Isabella had known since she was little.
I asked her to come privately.
Beatriz watched from the other side of the room.
“You are making this dramatic.”
she said.
I ignored her.
Gabriel arrived three hours later.
So did the doctor.
Isabella’s injuries were not life-threatening.
That was the only good news.
Her hands showed repeated friction damage.
Her knees had healing scrapes.
She had lost almost three kilograms since her last medical appointment.
The doctor asked to speak with her privately.
I agreed.
Beatriz did not.
“I am her stepmother.”
she said.
The word landed.
Stepmother.
For years, I believed Beatriz hated being treated as though she were less important because she had not given birth to Isabella.
Now she used the word as authority.
The doctor looked at me.
I said,
“Isabella chooses who stays.”
My daughter chose me.
Beatriz left furious.
Afterward, Isabella told us why she had taken the second phone.
One night she came downstairs for water.
She heard voices inside my study.
Beatriz and Mateo were arguing.
Mateo said,
“If she tells him about the staff, he’ll start looking at everything.”
Beatriz answered,
“She won’t.”
Then Mateo asked,
“How do you know?”
Beatriz said,
“Because by the time he comes home, she’ll believe he doesn’t want her.”
I looked away.
Gabriel closed his eyes.
Isabella continued.
She had seen them kissing.
She had seen Mateo carrying boxes into the basement.
The next morning, Beatriz discovered her outside the study.
That was when the chores changed.
Before that, Isabella had been asked to clean her room and put away dishes.
Normal things.
Afterward, she became responsible for bathrooms.
Laundry.
Trash.
Floors.
Beatriz told her she had become difficult and ungrateful.
She told her I had complained from Dubai about Isabella interrupting my work.
“She said you wanted me to learn not to need you.”
Isabella whispered.
I squeezed her hand.
“I never said that.”
“I know.”
This time she sounded more certain.
Then Gabriel asked,
“Did Beatriz ever say why the other workers left?”
Isabella nodded.
“She said adults who talk too much lose their jobs.”
The room became silent.
My daughter had not only been abused.
She had been used as a warning system.
Keep the child frightened.
Keep the house empty.
May you like
Keep witnesses away.
And tomorrow morning, while I was supposed to be thousands of miles away, twenty million euros of land would quietly change hands.
