03

Prologue

It all started in April, one year ago. Back then, she had established herself as a powerful lawyer within one of the law firms in the city. She lived happily with her family in an affluent area, enjoying all the comforts any family could wish for. Her name is Alejandra, an elegant woman if there ever was one.

She was one of the top-performing students in her faculty, which allowed her to enjoy one of the scarce and prestigious scholarships at Harvard during her last year of college.

Years later, she embarked on an adventure and, along with two other partners, founded a law firm. The first few years were tough, as is the case with any fledgling company, but year after year, their popularity and worth increased. They took on better and more significant cases, and gradually, the firm began to bear fruit.

It was in the final years of college when Alexandra met her future husband, Iván. One could say there was that special connection seen in romantic movies. He was studying industrial engineering, and during those tough years of study, they supported each other until my father began his professional career in the electrical sector. Their commitment and mutual support strengthened their relationship even more. They trusted each other, leaned on each other during difficult times, and all of it began to bear fruit in their partnership. A few years after graduating, Alexandra became pregnant with what would be her first and only child.

With Iván's invaluable help, she juggled her professional life and taking care of me, and I must say she handled it all wonderfully.

Today, she is 46 years old, with a brunette, bordering on chestnut, medium-length hair. It's the perfect length for her to be both comfortable and elegant, which is necessary for her daily work. Her naturally tanned complexion, which she maintains throughout the year (and accentuates to almost exaggerated levels in the summer), complements her outfits very well. She never wore overly revealing necklines or too short skirts, but that didn't mean that her poise, elegance, and beauty didn't catch attention. Her silhouette is that of a woman who takes care of herself through constant gym routines and a well-balanced diet. This allows her to wear all sorts of outfits that may not suit everyone, but they suit her perfectly. From pencil skirts with shirts, blazers, tight jeans, blouses, and a long etcetera, always accompanied by the best earrings, necklaces, and shoes that she knew how to match perfectly.

We have always been a model family, achieving whatever my parents set out to do. But everything changed when we decided to buy a new penthouse in one of the city's neighborhoods.

My father had always wanted to buy a penthouse and enjoy all the comforts that such a property offers. He had the idea in his mind for a long time, and he eventually convinced my mother to look for one that met his demands. It took a while, but eventually, my parents found one that fulfilled all their wishes, and we moved in. A spacious terrace, many bedrooms, a cozy living room, and a long list of amenities that would make our family one of the happiest in the city. But that was one of the biggest mistakes we could have made, and it was going to cost us dearly.

Chapter 1

I still remember that fateful day as if it were yesterday.

I was coming home after a very tough morning of classes, the kind that makes you question if it's really worth finishing the degree and, above all, if you'll be able to do it. The bus ride distracted me with the thousand and one assignments I had to submit, presentations, problems, and especially the dreaded exams. I was so lost in thought that I didn't realize I had reached home until I heard my own keys opening the lock. From the hallway, I could hear the bustling sounds from the kitchen, a sign that my mother was at home. The metallic clinking of pots and cutlery, the background noise of the TV--all those familiar sounds brought back a sense of calm.

I followed the trail of those sounds and saw my mother pacing back and forth in the kitchen, the agitated clicking of her heels indicating that she was in a hurry. The sunlight streamed in through the glass door, partially revealing her silhouette.

"Hello, Mom, good morning," I said, leaving my backpack on one of the kitchen chairs. "How are you?"

As I turned towards her, I noticed how perfectly put-together she looked, even for being at home. The apron covered her front, surprisingly matching the slightly tight blue jeans that hugged her figure, along with a loose beige blouse. She had her hair tied up, though it was evident that she had done it hastily, as a rebellious strand kept escaping and bothering her.

"Hello, sweetheart! I'm fine, just preparing something for lunch. And how about you? How are your classes?" She barely glanced at me as she continued bustling around the kitchen. Her voice sounded affectionate, and a smile adorned her face.

I approached the pot that was boiling to smell what she was cooking. "Good, though very tired... The semester exams are just around the corner, and we have so many assignments to finish," I said, lifting the lid curiously to see what she was preparing.

"Cheer up, dear! I know you can handle everything. Your father had no problem completing his degree year by year. And think that once you finish, he might be able to arrange something for you to start your professional career in the same company. Being the head of sales, I don't think they'd mind having you onboard as well."

"Sure, Mom, but it's not the same! When Dad was studying, he had you to help him. I'm all alone!" I couldn't help but look down and avert my gaze.

"Don't worry, my love, we can fix that," she replied with a smile.

"How?" I looked at her, not understanding.

"By finding yourself a girlfriend, don't you think?" She said, gently ruffling my hair. "Besides, a handsome guy like you shouldn't have any trouble finding a girl."

"But what are you talking about, Mom?" I got a little nervous. "I-I don't want a girlfriend!" I couldn't help but look away.

"Relax, dear, find her when you truly feel like it." She gave me a gentle kiss on the forehead, trying to be understanding.

That made me turn around and go back to the chair where my backpack was. I was used to my mother's affectionate nature, especially behind closed doors. She had realized that in recent years, I didn't like it as much when she did it in public, so she learned to reserve it only for home.

"Aren't you working today?"

"Is this work not enough for you?" Her response caught me off guard, thinking I had put my foot in it big time. But when I turned around and looked at her, she was smiling. "I have plenty of paperwork and things to prepare for next week, but I'll do it here at home. I won't go to the office today."

"O-Okay, Mom... I know you work hard. I didn't mean to underestimate what you do..." I tried to make it sound like an apology. "Will Dad come for lunch?"

"I know, my boy." She cupped my face with both hands, accidentally smudging it a bit while planting a kiss on my forehead. "No, you know he's visiting some clients, and he won't be back until tomorrow. He'll be just in time for Uncle Luis's birthday."

"That's right! Although it's one day we could have had lunch together... But well, it's okay..."

Calmness prevailed in the house, everything moved on like any other day until suddenly, the repeated loud ringing of the doorbell echoed throughout.

Chapter 2

DING DONG!! DING DONG!!

"Who is it?" I glance towards the door, completely disoriented. "Are you expecting someone, Mom?"

"No, not at all. I have no idea who it could be. Can you go and answer it? I'm too busy right now... Probably just someone trying to sell us something. If you need me to go, let me know, sweetheart."

"I don't know who it could be..." I turn towards the door, distancing myself further from my mother.

I walk down the hallway to the front door. "Who could it be... visitors at this time of day?" Without bothering to look through the peephole, I open the door directly, and the image before me leaves me horrified. Before me stands a terrifying figure. So much so that I unconsciously take a step back upon seeing the immense belly of the man standing in front of our house, creating a doubly grotesque image due to his height and the gray hair crowning his sweaty head. An old, fat man, whose prominent belly makes him even larger than he appears, and who is around 70 years old. His hair, a mix of white and gray, further ages the facial marks that denote years of life. His white shirt sticks to his skin, with grease stains scattered all over. His poor attire is completed with knee-length shorts. It's Mr. Ferdinand, our neighbor from the third floor. He lives just below us. He has been living alone for years, divorced and never joined with anyone again. The entire neighborhood thinks that his personality and way of being are incompatible with living with him. He argues with all the neighbors, and in the last neighborhood meeting, he had a couple of heated discussions with my father. We all hate him, but what's worse is that he seems to enjoy it...

"Hello, young man, are your parents' home?"

His imposing gaze makes me hesitate slightly; all I can manage to say is, "Uh... just a moment, please..."

I turn back to the hallway and head towards the kitchen, leaving him standing at the entrance.

"Mom..." I say to my mother when I appear from around the kitchen door, visibly worried.

"What's wrong, honey?" My expression makes my mother stop what she's doing to pay attention to me. She walks towards me, wiping her hands on her apron as she asks, "Did something happen? Who was it?"

"It's... Mr. Ferdinand..."

"What? Mr. Ferdinand? What on earth does he want now?" My mother washes her hands and lets her hair down, not trying to appear too 'housewife-like.'

My face reflects some concern after what happened in the last neighborhood meeting. I stay at the edge of the doorway as I look at her. She passes me with a firm step and an unfriendly look on her face as she heads down the hallway towards the front door.

"Good morning, Mr. Ferdinand. Can I help you?" My mother's voice sounds very firm, showing how little she enjoys this man's presence.

"Good morning, Alexandra. Is your husband home?" His voice surprisingly sounds polite.

"My husband? No, he's not here. I'm afraid you'll have to settle for me. What do you want?" she says firmly. Due to the work my mother does as a lawyer, one of the things that have bothered her the most throughout her years is the sexist comments. Comments that doubt her ability to face and solve problems.

"Well, I hope you can solve this issue," he says, looking back towards the staircase, "Can we come in and talk? I don't think it's good that the whole neighborhood finds out, don't you?"

"Come in? Where? In my house?" She looks surprised. "How can you just enter my house? Since when do we have that kind of relationship?" My mother is visibly angry and defensive. However, it doesn't faze Mr. Ferdinand, who calmly tells her that she won't like it if the neighbors see them arguing in the hallway.

That leaves my mother thoughtful. On the one hand, she knows he's right; no one cares about their discussions. But on the other hand, what really bothers her is that the neighborhood might see her talking to him; the mere possibility of being associated with someone like him torments her.

"Fine, come in... I hope it's important; I have many things to do." She reluctantly tells him.

"Of course," he says with a smile.

As they pass behind me, I see a smile forming on his face. I notice what he's looking at and see that he's staring at my mother's figure and behind without her noticing. I'm so surprised that I can't bring myself to say anything.

I watch as they reach the end of the hallway and enter the living room...

Chapter 3

If there's one thing that has always characterized Alexandra, it's her ability to handle any situation. In this situation, she should have sent the old man to the kitchen, quickly resolved the matter, and gotten rid of this hateful neighbor. But I know very well that my mother wouldn't take anyone to the kitchen, as she was flustered with meal preparations, and no matter how unpleasant he may be, she would never take anyone from outside there. Not even Mr. Ferdinand himself.

It took me a while to react and realize that, yes, that old man who constantly gives my parents headaches had just entered my house, following my mother down our hallway, noticing every detail of her silhouette without her noticing anything.

Upon entering, I found a situation that was to be expected. My mother standing, arms crossed, and a look of anger on her face, in the middle of the living room, while the old man sat in one of the chairs around our wooden table, making his belly look even larger.

"Well, here we are. Are you going to talk now? Or are you going to spew some of the lies you like to make up?" Just his presence in our dining room made my mother express anger I had rarely seen. His confident gaze made me a bit nervous...

"Calm down, Alexandra, haven't said anything, but may I sit down?" he says, sitting in the chair, but not just any chair--right where my dad sits every night for dinner. That spot is not particularly special, but it's symbolic, and it seems like he's trying to replace my father's place.

His mere presence inside our home made everything feel wrong. "Since when is this man welcome in my house? Would my father approve of him entering? Does my mother have the whole situation under control?" Every single question kept repeating in my mind, and I had no clear answers to any of them.

"Is your husband going to take much longer to arrive?" the old man speaks to my mother, seated in the chair. While she, standing with her arms crossed and an unfriendly expression, responds firmly, "My husband is working and won't be back until tonight. What do you want?"

"All right, all right..." He settles into the chair, relaxed. "It's an important matter, but first, let me ask you something: Have you showered today?"

That question echoes through the entire living room. It catches both my mother and me off guard. We weren't expecting such a question. She, incredulous at what she just heard, opens her mouth slightly in response, but still answers.

"I beg your pardon? What did you just say?"

Instead of being scared, the old man smiles a little at her anger.

"Look, Mr. Ferdinand, as I said, I have things to do, so I'd prefer you leave. I don't know why you're asking those kinds of questions."

"Neighbor, it's an important question. I know you might think I'm being nosy and that I'm interested in knowing if you shower or not, but that's not the reason."

"But how dare you? Here in my house, in my living room... Leave, I don't want to keep talking to you. Since when do you care about when we shower in this house? Who do you think you are, Mr. Ferdinand?"

"I-I do..." I respond without knowing exactly why.

My mother's face turns towards the door frame, her face showing great surprise. "But, son, what are you saying? Why are you answering?"

Her surprise gradually turns back into anger. She didn't like that I joined the conversation, especially to say something like that. However, the old man smiles, satisfied with what he just heard.

"Well, of course, I need to know, neighbor. Especially given the subject we're dealing with..."

"Speak already!'' she grows increasingly agitated.

"Calm down, neighbor, don't get nervous," his calmness is surprising.

"Look, Mr. Ferdinand, as I've already told you, I have things to do. Please come back tonight and speak directly to my husband."

" Alexandra, there's a water leak in your bathtub. It's seeping and dripping into my bathroom from various areas." He begins to speak, never taking his eyes off my mother's. "I took the liberty of expediting things and called my insurance company, which informed me that the repair will cost around $5,000. The reason I'm here is to resolve this issue."

"And that's why you need to know when we shower? The insurance company should be asking me directly."

"But don't you worry, I'm not bothered about that. I wouldn't mind, to be honest."

"I know you wouldn't mind, I already know that," my mother gets angrier, going a step further.

"Very well, neighbor. I believe we can resolve this. You come, see the leaks, go back up, call the insurance, and it's all fixed."

This leaves my mother silent. She seems somewhat undecided about the need to get rid of this man. After a few seconds, I see her gaze shift towards me, as if trying to tell me that she's about to accept what he's saying. That makes me feel a vertigo like never before. Could she really go down to his apartment?

"Well..." I see my mother hesitate. "All right, I'll go down for a moment, and we'll finish this."

"What?!" I can't help but say when I hear her say that. I immediately turn to look at the old man and see him smile slightly.

"Fine, neighbor, as you wish. Let's go then." Without waiting for her, he gets up and leaves the house without saying anything else. He's rude.

My mother and I are left alone. I see how she stares off into space, undoubtedly lost in thought. Assessing whether going down to that man's apartment is the best option, but my question brings her back to reality.

"Mama! But what are you saying? How can you go down to his apartment?" My words come out with deep concern.

"It's okay, honey. I can handle myself."

"You shouldn't go down there, Mom, it's not a good idea..."

"I'm not a child, John."

"But Mom... we should wait for Dad..." I say as I see her leaving the living room. "Besides, you know perfectly well... it's not a good idea."

She leaves the living room and heads toward her room, with me following behind. As she puts on her shoes and without looking at me, she responds, "He won't stop bothering us. I know him."

"But... let me come down with you..."

"Are you sure you want to come?'' My mother stops putting on her shoes and looks at me.

"Yes... yes, Mom, I'll come with you..." I quickly grab my sneakers.

"ALEXANDRA?!" We hear his voice from the landing.

"Let's go, let's not make him more furious," she says as she unties her hair, as if doing so makes her feel more secure. She puts on the pearl-gray jacket, seeming like she wants to look like a lawyer.

Once in the landing, we close the door, and as we descend the stairs, we see the old man standing by his door on the floor below. "Come on, Alexandra, I don't have all morning."

"I've already told you not to speak to me in that tone, Mr. Ferdinand."

That doesn't offend the old man; on the contrary, I see a small smile forming on his face as he says, "Come in."

Without saying anything else, my mother follows behind the old man, entering the lion's den...