She stepped closer, her shadow falling completely over the old housekeeper.

“I know about your nephew in Texas,” Patricia said.

Rosa’s head snapped up.

Her face on the screen looked pale and terrified.

“He has nothing to do with this,” Rosa said.

“He is undocumented, Rosa,” Patricia said, her voice dropping to a cruel purr. “And so are your two cousins in Chicago.”

My father’s breath hitched in his throat.

“One phone call from my lawyers, and they will be on a bus back to the border by the end of the week,” Patricia said.

Rosa began to weep, her shoulders shaking violently.

“Please,” Rosa begged. “Mr. Duarte is a good man. He would not let you do this.”

“Emiliano believes whatever I tell him,” Patricia said.

She reached down and grabbed Rosa by the chin, forcing the old woman to look at her.

“If you say one word to him about how I treat the girls, I will ruin your entire family,” Patricia said.

“Do you understand me?”

On the screen, Rosa nodded slowly, tears streaming down her wrinkled cheeks.