Chapter 6 - THE VIDEO NOBODY WAS SUPPOSED TO HAVE
By late afternoon, the Villasenor family group chat had become a courtroom with no judge and ninety prosecutors.
I had muted the chat years earlier, but Camila sent me screenshots because she believed evidence should never be allowed to disappear just because it was annoying.
Patricia wrote first.
LUCIA HAS TAKEN THE GIRLS AND IS USING THEM TO PUNISH ANDRES.
Aunt Mariana replied with three praying hands.
Federico wrote that family matters should remain private.
His sudden devotion to privacy arrived less than four hours after he learned his two-million-peso investment might be imaginary.
Then Andres posted a longer message.
He said I had misunderstood an old family custom.
He said Patricia had never intended to deny the girls food.
He said the plastic tray contained a special meal prepared for children.
I read that sentence twice.
Cold rice, stale bread, wilted vegetables, and spilled sauce had apparently become a children's menu.
Andres continued.
He claimed I had insulted Patricia, frightened the girls, and stormed out because I was jealous of his success.
That final line was so perfectly Andres that I almost admired it.
Jealous of his success.
The success financed by a loan from a company I controlled.
The success celebrated in a hacienda my company owned.
The success decorated with a false purchase agreement.
Camila called me.
"Please tell me I can answer him."
"No."
"I have twelve years of material."
"Exactly why you cannot answer him."
"You're no fun."
"I am having the worst fun of my life."
She sighed.
"Sofia saw one of the messages on my phone."
My irritation vanished.
"Which one?"
"The one where Patricia says you poisoned the girls against the family."
I closed my eyes.
"How is she?"
"Angry."
"Crying?"
"No."
That worried me more.
I returned to the apartment immediately.
Sofia was sitting at the dining table drawing with a black marker.
Valentina was building a castle from couch cushions.
Camila met me near the kitchen.
"She asked whether Grandma hates you."
I sat beside Sofia.
"Can I see what you're drawing?"
She turned the paper around.
It showed a long table with many stick figures.
Two smaller figures stood far away beside a tree.
One of the small figures had yellow scribbles over her dress.
My throat tightened.
"That's the party."
She nodded.
"Where are you?"
She pointed to a figure beside the two girls.
"And Dad?"
She pointed to the head table.
He was drawn at the center.
"Why is he so far away?"
Sofia looked at me as though the answer was obvious.
"Because he was."
Children do not always need metaphors.
Sometimes adults invent them because literal truth is unbearable.
"Aunt Camila said Grandma wrote something about us."
I glanced at my sister.
She looked guilty.
"Adults are arguing in messages, and you do not need to read them."
Sofia pressed the marker cap onto the pen.
"Did Grandma lie?"
"Yes."
"About the food?"
"Yes."
"Why?"
"Because telling the truth would make her look cruel."
"But she was cruel."
"Yes."
Sofia considered that.
"Then why doesn't she just say sorry?"
I wished I had an answer that did not teach my daughter too much about pride.
"Some people would rather change the story than change themselves."
She looked at her drawing again.
"Dad does that too."
I said nothing.
She was eight years old.
She had already noticed.
At five-thirty, Elena called.
"We found the catering company."
"And?"
"The owner is willing to confirm the menu."
"Good."
"Better than good."
I waited.
"One of the servers recorded part of the incident."
I stood up.
"Why?"
"Apparently his girlfriend likes celebrity-family gossip and he thought the party was absurd."
"Do we have the video?"
"Not yet."
"Why not?"
"He is scared."
That made sense.
The Villasenor name still opened doors in Queretaro, even if most of the doors had been leased rather than owned.
"Can we meet him?"
"He agreed to tonight."
At seven, Elena and I sat in the back room of a small bakery with a twenty-two-year-old server named Diego Salas.
He kept checking the front window.
"I don't want my boss to fire me."
"Your boss already said your job is safe."
"I don't want Senor Villasenor to make trouble for my family."
Elena leaned forward.
"No one can promise you there will be no pressure, but we can document any pressure that occurs."
Diego looked at me.
"I saw your little girl's face."
I said nothing.
"The older one."
He swallowed.
"She looked at her dad."
My chest tightened.
"I saw."
"That's why I kept recording."
He unlocked his phone.
The video began before Patricia reached our table.
Diego had been filming the mariachi band from behind a service station.
The camera shifted when Patricia's ivory suit entered the frame.
Her voice was clear.
"Take those plates later."
A female server answered.
"Ma'am, the children are still eating."
Patricia turned.
"I said later."
Then another voice appeared off camera.
Andres.
"Mama, leave them alone until the toast."
My heart stopped.
Diego looked at me.
"Keep watching."
The video moved as Diego stepped behind a column.
Patricia walked toward Andres at the head table.
"They should not be sitting there with plated service."
Andres laughed.
"Then move them after I finish."
"Lucia will complain."
"Lucia always complains."
A few men at the table laughed.
Then Andres said the sentence that made every muscle in my body lock.
"Give them the leftovers if it keeps you happy."
The video shook slightly.
Patricia smiled.
"At least someone in this family understands order."
A minute later, she approached our table.
The rest was exactly as I remembered.
She took Sofia's plate.
She took Valentina's.
She said the head table was for women who gave the family sons.
She shoved the plastic tray forward.
Sauce hit Valentina's dress and Sofia's cheek.
Then the video captured something I had missed.
At the head table, Andres saw the sauce land.
He smiled before he lifted his glass.
My stomach turned.
I had remembered him as indifferent.
The video showed something worse.
Amusement.
Diego stopped playback.
"There's more."
"Show me."
He pressed play again.
The video followed us as we stood.
Patricia leaned toward Aunt Mariana.
"She'll come back by breakfast."
Mariana asked why.
Patricia laughed.
"Because women without money always come back."
Several relatives laughed with her.
Then Andres called after me not to embarrass him.
I walked away with the girls.
The video ended.
For a few seconds, none of us spoke.
Elena finally asked Diego to transfer the original file with metadata intact.
He did.
"Can this keep the girls away from them?"
His question surprised me.
"That is not your burden."
"I know."
He looked down.
"My dad used to tell my mom she couldn't leave because she had no money."
I understood then why he had kept recording.
"Thank you."
He nodded.
As we left the bakery, Elena looked at me.
"That video changes the custody narrative."
"It changes Sofia's memory too."
"How?"
"She thinks her father failed to protect her."
I opened the car door.
"I don't know if I can ever let her see that he laughed."
Elena's expression softened.
"You don't have to decide tonight."
My phone rang.
It was Rafael Cardenas, Andres's lawyer.
I put him on speaker.
"Lucia, I am calling as a courtesy."
"Courtesy usually doesn't need to announce itself."
Elena gave me a look.
Rafael ignored the comment.
"Andres is prepared to resolve both the family dispute and the Altura issue privately."
"Those are separate matters."
"They do not have to be."
Elena's face hardened.
"Careful, Rafael."
He recognized her voice.
"Elena, good, you're there."
"I am."
"Then you can advise your client that continued financial pressure will make cooperative custody discussions difficult."
I stared at the phone.
"Did you just connect access to my daughters with a debt?"
"I said no such thing."
"You came close."
Rafael changed tone.
"Andres wants his family back."
"He should have thought of that before he laughed while his mother took food from his daughters."
Silence.
Elena looked at me sharply.
Rafael spoke more slowly.
"What are you talking about?"
"Ask your client."
I ended the call.
Elena raised an eyebrow.
"You just told him we have evidence."
"I told him enough to make Andres wonder what we have."
"That can be useful."
"I know."
Thirty minutes later, the family group chat suddenly went quiet.
Then Patricia deleted her long message about the special children's meal.
Federico deleted two comments.
Aunt Mariana deleted her prayer hands.
Andres removed his claim that I had invented the incident.
Someone had warned them.
Camila sent me a screenshot before the deletions disappeared.
Then she sent another message.
LOOK AT THIS.
It was a new post from Patricia's public Facebook page.
The photograph showed Patricia holding Sofia as a baby.
The caption read: A GRANDMOTHER'S LOVE CAN SURVIVE EVEN WHEN A BITTER WOMAN USES CHILDREN AS WEAPONS.
Thousands of followers could see it.
But the final sentence was worse.
PRAY THAT MY GRANDDAUGHTERS ARE RETURNED BEFORE THEIR MOTHER DESTROYS WHAT IS LEFT OF THEM.
I stared at the screen.
Then another notification appeared.
May you like
Patricia had tagged me by name.
