“Do not look the boss in the eye,” warned Doña Socorro, the housekeeper. “Do not ask questions. And never go near the north wing. Clean quietly, then leave.”
Valeria nodded.
She began polishing the heavy mahogany furniture in the main hall.
That was when the scream came.
A small boy came running down the hallway, his face red with rage, holding a heavy bronze horse statue in both hands.
Before the guards could move, Mateo threw it with all his strength.
It hit Valeria hard in the ribs.
She dropped the cleaning supplies and bent over in pain.
“Mateo!” Alejandro’s voice thundered through the room. “Stop right now!”
But Mateo didn’t stop.
He ran straight to Valeria and began kicking her legs with a fury no child should have carried.
The armed guards froze.
Everyone waited for the young maid to scream.
To cry.
To run away like the eighteen women before her.
But Valeria did none of that.
Holding her side, she slowly lowered herself to her knees on the marble floor.
Not above Mateo.
Not behind him.