Chapter 5
Lucia grabbed her bag. —We’re leaving. —No —Roberto said—. One thing is missing. He took out a stamped document. —A request for support was filed with the Specialized Agency for the Care of Older Adults due to possible property and domestic violence. Ernesto is over sixty years old. He has the right to protection.
Daniel opened his eyes. —Did you report me? “Not formally yet,” I said. “Today I came to give you a chance to walk out the door as a son, not as an accused person.”
Lucia approached Daniel. —Don’t say anything. He pushed her with just his elbow. Not strong. But it was enough for me to see what she also silently endured when things didn’t go his way. “You shut up,” he told her. Sofia cried. -Dad…
Daniel turned towards me with a distraught expression. “This is all about money, isn’t it? Teresa filled your head with lies about me before she died.” The room froze. Nobody spoke Teresa’s name with venom. Nobody. I got up slowly. —Don’t drag your mother into your mess again. —She always preferred the workshop to us.
I slapped him. It wasn’t strong like the ones young people say. It was dry. Like an old man’s. Like a father’s. A limit. Daniel remained motionless. Me too. My hand was burning. “I shouldn’t have done that,” I said. “But I’m not going to apologize today.”
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Roberto took my arm, not to stop me, but to remind me that I was not alone. Daniel touched his cheek. And then his disguise ran out. He grabbed the plate in front of him and smashed it against the wall. Emiliano shouted. Sofia went under the table. Lucia stepped back. Nico and Ramiro moved at the same time. Daniel tried to go to the folder, but Ramiro grabbed him by the shoulders. He struggled, kicked a chair, and yelled that we were all starving, that I was an ungrateful old man, and that without him I would rot alone.
Mrs. Angela was already dialing. —Yes, officer, there is domestic violence. An elderly person is at risk. Senior citizen. The word sounded strange to me. I still saw myself as the man who carried engines, not someone who needed protection. But that afternoon I understood that asking for help wasn’t surrendering my manhood. It was defending the life I still had left.
