I nodded.
She led me to a small room. Dolores was connected to several machines, her face calmer but very pale. Javier and Pilar arrived shortly afterward, breathing hard—they had finally decided to show up.
“There’s not much more we can do,” the doctor said. “Her heart is very weak. There are palliative options…”
Pilar spoke quickly:
“It’s best not to prolong this, doctor. She doesn’t even understand anything anymore.”
“Yes, she does,” I said, looking at Dolores. Her half-open eyes seemed to flash for a moment.
Later, when we were alone, I leaned close to her.
“I read the envelope,” I whispered. “I know everything.”
Her lips curved slightly, the smallest smile.
“The key…” she murmured. “In my blue robe… inside pocket.”
I remembered the robe hanging behind her bedroom door.
“The key to what?”
“To the safe… where you’d never expect it. That’s where… what will destroy them… is.”
Her breathing grew irregular.
“Dolores…”
“Show them no mercy,” she repeated in a fading whisper.
Then the machine’s tone stretched into a long, continuous beep as nurses rushed in. They pulled me back against the wall.
I saw her hand clutch the sheet…
and then go still.
Dolores Navarro’s heart stopped—
and her plan for revenge began beating inside me.
The funeral was small, almost cold. A quick mass in a neighborhood church in Argüelles, four elderly neighbors, a couple of faces I didn’t recognize, and the immediate family. Javier looked tense, fidgeting with the knot of his tie. Pilar wiped away tears that seemed more ceremonial than sincere.
“Well,” she said as we walked out, “now we’ll have to see what she left. The pension, a few savings, if we’re lucky. Maybe we can at least sell that old apartment and get something out of it.”
continue to the next page.”
