3. The First Rule
The first rule concerned the kitchen.
Rosa didn’t want me cooking after eight in the evening.
Then she decided Mateo’s bottles took up too much refrigerator space.
Then she complained that our laundry used too much electricity.
I tried to be accommodating.
We were guests.
I understood that living with family required compromise.
But the rules kept changing.
I had to ask before using the washing machine.
I couldn’t invite my father over without permission.
I wasn’t supposed to leave Mateo’s toys in the living room.
And whenever I questioned something, Rosa reminded me that she was allowing us to stay under her roof.
“Be grateful, Camila.”
She said it so often that eventually I stopped responding.
4. The Car
The car was a compact sedan we’d purchased shortly before Mateo was born.
The financing and registration were in Luis’s name because he’d qualified for better terms at the time.
But I had made most of the monthly payments.
The transfers came directly from my account.
I paid for fuel.
Insurance.
Maintenance.
And the repairs after someone backed into us at a supermarket.
It was the car I used to take Mateo to appointments and buy groceries.
When Luis was unemployed, he rarely needed it during the day.
Then Rosa began asking to borrow it.
At first, it was for errands.
Then church meetings.
Then visits to her sister.
Eventually, she started keeping the keys in her handbag.
One morning, I asked for them.
She looked at me as though I’d insulted her.
“It’s registered to my son.”
“I know, but I need to take Mateo to the clinic.”
“Then ask Luis.”
Luis was sitting at the table.
He didn’t look up.
“Mom needs it today,” he said.
That was when I realized the car was no longer something I could count on.
5. The Stairs
The day before Dad found me, I’d been carrying Mateo downstairs when I missed the last step.
My ankle twisted beneath me.
I managed to keep Mateo against my chest.
He was frightened, but unhurt.
I wasn’t.
Pain shot through my ankle.
I sat on the floor for several minutes, trying not to cry.
Rosa appeared in the hallway.
“What happened now?”
“I slipped.”
She looked at my foot.
“You need to be more careful.”
I asked whether she could take me to a clinic.
She said she had an appointment.
Then she left with the car.
Luis promised he’d take me later.
But by evening, he was busy completing an online job application.
I wrapped my ankle and told myself it would improve.
The next afternoon, we needed milk, diapers, and groceries.
Rosa still had the keys.
So I walked.
