She turned back to Rosa, her face twisted in anger.

“Go,” Patricia barked. “Now.”

Rosa looked down at her worn shoes, a tear escaping her eye and rolling down her wrinkled cheek.

She began to turn toward the back door that led to the servants’ quarters.

I felt Martina’s grip loosen on my sweater as she took a step forward.

I did not hesitate.

I walked right alongside my sister, stepping directly into the path between Rosa and the door.

We stood side by side, blocking the exit.

“She is not going anywhere,” I said.

Patricia stared at me, her eyes wide with shock.

“Daniela, get out of the way,” Patricia said.

“No,” I said, holding my ground.

Martina grabbed Rosa’s uninjured hand and held it tight.

“We won’t let you throw her out,” Martina said, her voice shaking but clear.

Patricia let out a sharp breath and reached into her pocket.

She pulled out her sleek, gold-cased smartphone.

“If you girls want to protect a criminal, then you can explain it to the police,” Patricia said.

She began tapping rapidly on the screen.