Chapter 3 - Freezing the Veins
Dawn came with the gray chill of late autumn.
Neither of us had slept. My father had rested on the small sofa in my study, refusing the bed, while I sat at the kitchen table drafting an exhaustive inventory of my assets, bank logs, and credit reports.
By eight in the morning, the extent of the damage was clear.
Daniela hadn't stopped with the restaurant card. She had applied for a revolving line of credit with a regional furniture store, bought high-end electronics under a deferred payment scheme, and listed my university salary as secondary collateral. The total liabilities hovered around three hundred and ten thousand pesos.
"We go to the bank first," I told Tomás as we drank black coffee.
"No," he said calmly, standing up and buttoning his jacket. "First we go to Gabriel."
Gabriel Viveros was my father's cousin, a semi-retired civil attorney who had handled commercial dispute litigation for Guadalajara's industrial sector for forty years. He was seventy-five, lived in an old house near Minerva Circle, and had zero patience for family sentimentality when it crossed into criminal negligence.
When we arrived at Gabriel’s office, the air smelled of floor wax and tobacco. The old lawyer listened in complete silence for forty-five minutes while I laid out the paperwork: the restaurant reservation form Arturo Méndez had graciously photocopied and emailed me at midnight, the bank tracking logs, the forged signature, and the delivery receipts.
Gabriel removed his glasses, wiped them with a linen handkerchief, and looked at Tomás.
"You understand what this means, cousin?"
"I understand," Tomás said firmly.
"If Rosa files the official fraud affidavit with the public prosecutor, Daniela is looking at formal charges for identity theft, bank fraud, and falsification of private documents. Sebastián's company could be seized if it was used as the receiving address."
"She did it deliberately," I said. "She set a trap for me at an anniversary dinner in front of ten people so that peer pressure would force me to take ownership of the debt on the spot."
Gabriel gave a thin, wolfish smile. "A classic intimidation tactic. Crude, but effective when dealing with docile victims. Fortunately, Rosa, you are not docile."
He picked up a heavy fountain pen and pulled three forms from his desk drawer.
"Step one: We file immediate identity theft freezes with the national credit bureaus. That locks every door. Step two: We deliver a formal cease-and-desist to Ortega Logistics, notifying them of imminent legal action for corporate identity appropriation. Step three: We file a criminal complaint before noon."
"Wait," Tomás said.
My heart tightened. For a fraction of a second, I thought my father was retreating. I thought the blood-tie was pulling him back into the cycle of enabling.
"Dad—"
Tomás held up a hand. "Wait, Gabriel. Before you file the complaint... I need to transfer the title of the house in Chapalita."
Gabriel paused, his pen hovering in midair. "The family house?"
"It is currently in both my name and Sofia's," Tomás said steadily. "Sofia signed a mutual power of attorney twenty years ago so I could manage the property taxes. If Daniela's creditors realize she is drowning, they will try to convince Sofia to mortgage that house to save her. I want my fifty percent transferred entirely to Rosa by noon today. Then I want an injunction placed on the remainder."
May you like
I stared at him. "Dad, that's your home. That's your only security."
Tomás looked at me, his eyes clear and resolute. "That house was built with forty years of my labor, Rosa. I will not allow it to be burned down to fuel your sister's delusions. If Sofia wants to ruin herself, that is her tragedy. But she will not drag you down with her. Not anymore."
