Chapter 6 - THE DEBT HIS FATHER LEFT BEHIND
Julian hadn’t spoken about his father in years.
Rafael Mendoza had died when Julian was nineteen.
Officially, it was a highway accident near San Marcos.
Truck lost control.
Wet road.
One dead.
Case closed.
But after the phone call, Julian couldn’t stop thinking about it.
The next morning, he drove to see his father’s younger brother, Tío Ernesto.
Ernesto lived above a tire shop on the edge of town.
When he opened the door and saw Julian, his face lit up.
Then he saw Mariana and Dieguito.
The smile disappeared.
“What happened?”
Julian told him everything.
Not every detail.
Enough.
Ernesto sat quietly for a long time.
Then Julian said one word.
“San Marcos.”
Ernesto looked up.
“Who told you that?”
“A man on the phone.”
Ernesto stood and locked the door.
Mariana noticed.
Julian did too.
“What do you know?”
Ernesto rubbed his face.
“Your father didn’t die because of rain.”
Julian stopped breathing.
“What?”
“He owed money.”
“To who?”
“A man named César Vélez.”
Julian’s eyes narrowed.
“Vélez?”
Ernesto nodded.
“Arturo’s father.”
Mariana whispered, “Oh my God.”
Julian stared at his uncle.
“What kind of debt?”
“Gambling at first.”
“Then business.”
“Your father borrowed money to save the family store.”
“He couldn’t pay.”
Julian paced.
“So César killed him?”
“I can’t prove it.”
“But your father was terrified the week before he died.”
“He told me, ‘If something happens to me, don’t let Eulalia sign anything.’”
Julian stopped.
“Mom knew?”
Ernesto’s face answered before his mouth did.
“Yes.”
Julian sat.
The room tilted.
His mother knew.
Maybe for decades.
Ernesto continued.
“After Rafael died, César stopped asking for money.”
“Why?”
“I always wondered.”
Julian whispered, “Because my mother made a deal.”
Ernesto nodded slowly.
“That’s what I think.”
Mariana looked at Julian.
“And Arturo?”
“Maybe collecting what his father believed was owed.”
Julian thought about the mansion.
The forged title.
The insurance policy.
The planned sale.
It wasn’t just greed.
It was a debt.
A family debt that had waited twenty years.
Ernesto opened an old cabinet.
He pulled out a metal cashbox.
“Your father left this with me.”
Julian stared.
“You had something from him all these years?”
“He told me to give it to you only if the Vélez family came back.”
Inside was an envelope.
Julian opened it.
A handwritten letter.
His father’s handwriting.
Julian recognized it immediately.
Son,
If you ever read this, it means I failed to keep my mistakes away from you.
César Vélez doesn’t want money.
He wants property.
He wants control.
And your mother knows more than she will ever admit.
Julian kept reading.
At the bottom was an address.
A warehouse outside San Marcos.
Mariana looked over his shoulder.
“What’s there?”
Ernesto said quietly, “Your father’s insurance records.”
Julian frowned.
“Why would that matter?”
Ernesto looked him straight in the eye.
“Because Rafael had a life insurance policy too.”
Julian felt cold.
“How much?”
“Half a million dollars.”
“Who got it?”
May you like
Ernesto hesitated.
“Your mother.”
