What she didn’t know was that weeks earlier, I had moved the company’s master deeds, powers of attorney, and banking-security hardware into a private safe-deposit box.
That evening, Mark returned home looking restless.
Before dinner had even ended, the doorbell rang.
Brenda stood outside.
She had somehow transformed back into the polished secretary everyone knew.
She claimed she had brought “urgent documents” for Mark’s signature.
Ofelia welcomed her as though she were family.
“Brenda, sweetheart! You work so hard for my son.”
Brenda sat at our dining table drinking coffee.
Then she looked at me with a smug smile.
“Laura really has such a talent for domestic things.”
Ofelia laughed.
Mark said nothing.
When Brenda stood to leave, I noticed the luxury watch on her wrist.
It matched an eighteen-thousand-dollar receipt I had found inside Mark’s coat two days earlier.
As I cleared the table, I noticed a paper beneath Brenda’s chair.
