He nodded, terrified.
-Yes sir.
—And from today on, any complaint or mistreatment must be reported directly to me. I want the list of residents without family and without resources before noon.
I left without saying goodbye. For the first time since my wife died, I felt something akin to justice.
The list arrived: fifteen names. Fifteen stories of abandonment. That same afternoon I called my lawyer, Montoya:
“I want everything donated,” I said. “Property, stocks, accounts. Leave me just a monthly pension.”
He remained silent, shocked.
—Mr. Salazar… your daughter…
“My daughter called me a burden on my birthday and left me here. The inheritance isn’t what she deserves. The consequences are.”
That week I signed documents, visited notaries, and handed out checks. I saw tears, trembling hands, and people grateful because they could buy medicine or repair roofs. My money stopped being just numbers. It became life.
And he knew Marcela would notice. And she did.
The following Saturday she appeared at the nursing home, furious, demanding to see me. When she saw me in the garden, she rushed towards me:
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