The pieces of the puzzle clicked into place with a terrifying snap. Aunt Patricia wasn’t just my mother’s sister; she was a fixer. She used her position of trust in the community to “clean up” the messes made by the wealthy families in town.
The Breaking Point
“You monster,” my mother breathed, stepping toward Patricia. “She is your niece! My daughter! My grandchild!”
Patricia finally spoke, her voice sharp and devoid of the sweetness she usually used at home. “The ‘grandchild’ would have been a burden! We are poor, Sofia! Do you know what that money could have done for us? It would have paid off the mortgage. It would have sent Valeria to a better school where no one knew her. I was saving this family!”
“By killing my child?” I finally found my voice. It was small, but it cut through the room. “You were giving me those teas every night. You told me they were for my nerves.”
I reached into my backpack and pulled out the small thermos I had carried with me. I had been about to drink it before the meeting. I handed it to the principal.
