The entire room fell silent.
Carla was still smiling, but no longer with confidence. It was a stiff smile, the kind you put on when you realize something is slipping out of your control.
“Excuse me,” she said, lifting her chin. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
The principal, Professor Hernández, walked down the hall with the microphone in his hand. I saw him coming and felt my legs go weak. Mateo was standing by the wall because my friend Sofía’s mother had brought him so he could see me come in. His eyes were huge.
“You’re Carla Rivas,” the principal said.
She pressed her lips together.
“Yes. So?”
The principal took a deep breath.
“I knew Mariana, Valeria and Mateo’s mother.”
When I heard my mother’s name, something inside me broke.
Carla turned pale.
“This has nothing to do with you.”
“Mariana volunteered at this school for many years,” he continued. “She organized raffles, helped students who couldn’t afford uniforms, and sold food at school fairs. She always talked about her children. And she also mentioned several times a fund she had set aside for them.”
A murmur rippled through the room.
I looked at Carla.
For the first time, she didn’t seem angry. She seemed scared.
“You can’t accuse me of anything in front of everyone,” she said.
The principal didn’t raise his voice.
“I’m not accusing her. I’m saying that a student almost didn’t come to her own graduation because she was told there wasn’t enough money for a dress, while her fifteen-year-old brother had to sew one for her using his deceased mother’s clothes.”
A “Oh, no” came from a table.
Carla turned to me angrily.
“Are you gossiping about my business?”
“I didn’t say anything,” I said, though my voice barely came out.
Then a man stood up from one side of the room. I vaguely recognized him from my father’s funeral: gray suit, glasses, serious expression.
“I can clarify a few things,” he said.
The director handed him a microphone.
“I’m Attorney Salas. I was the lawyer who helped Mrs. Mariana set up an account for her children. After Mr. Arturo’s death, I’ve tried to contact the children’s legal guardian to review the status of those funds.”
Carla took a step back.
“This is harassment.”
“No,” he replied. “This is documented concern.”
The air grew heavy.
The attorney looked at the audience.
“I won’t give private details here, but I can say that for months there were evasive answers, strange movements, and refusals to provide receipts.”
Carla shouted:
“Everything in that house belongs to me! I’m the responsible adult!”
The room went silent.
The lawyer stared at her.
“No, ma’am. That’s exactly what we’re going to prove isn’t true.”
Mateo took my hand tightly.
And at that moment I understood that the dress hadn’t been the scandal. The scandal was everything Carla had been hiding.
But the worst was yet to come.
PART 3: For more information, continue on the next page
