Chapter 3 - Twenty-Three Recordings
The first recording began with Nico crying.
Then my mother.
“Why is that baby crying again? My head is pounding.”
Mia sounded far away.
“I haven’t eaten since this morning. Could you hold him for a minute?”
“I didn’t come here to be a nanny.”
I sat on the edge of the bed.
The same bed where I had slept through nights my wife spent walking the floor.
I opened another file.
A pan scraped across the stove.
“This is cold,” Mom said.
“I can warm it up.”
“You should have served it when I asked.”
“Nico was nursing.”
“There’s always an excuse.”
The next recording was shorter.
“Rafael doesn’t need to know everything that happens here.”
Then silence.
Then Mia.
“I just want to call him.”
“And tell him what? That his mother asked you to wash a few dishes?”
A floorboard creaked behind me.
“Son.”
Mom stood in the doorway.
Her eyes fixed on the phone.
“What are you doing?”
“Listening.”
“She recorded me?”
I turned the screen toward her.
“Twenty-three times.”
“That’s a violation of my privacy.”
I almost laughed. The sound caught painfully in my throat.
“My wife collapsed while you ate her dinner.”
“You think one recording tells you what I’ve dealt with?”
“There are twenty-three.”
“You’ve changed since you married her.”
“No.”
I stood.
“I haven’t changed enough.”
Mom reached for the phone.
I stepped back.
“Give me that.”
“It belongs to Mia.”
“She’s been collecting things to turn you against me.”
“Then explain what I heard.”
“You don’t understand the pressure I’m under.”
“What pressure?”
“I raised you without anyone treating me like I was fragile.”
“And now you want her to suffer because you did?”
Her face hardened.
“That girl lies around with a baby all day.”
For several seconds, I could hear only the fan turning above us.
Then I walked to the closet and pulled out her suitcase.
“What are you doing?”
“You’re leaving tonight.”
“This is my son’s house.”
“It’s Mia’s home.”
“You’d put your mother out?”
“I’ll drive you to your apartment. You’ll be safe.”
She looked at the suitcase, then at me.
“If you do this, don’t expect your family to understand.”
Downstairs, Nico started crying.
Mom moved toward the hallway.
I stepped between her and the door.
“I’ll get him.”
For the first time that night, she looked less angry than surprised.
As I passed her, Mia’s phone lit up.
May you like
A new message appeared from my aunt.
Your mother says Mia attacked her. Call me immediately.
