“Rosa will not be able to explain this away.”

“The police will have no choice but to take her.”

My father leaned back in his leather chair, his face entirely devoid of color.

“She is framing Rosa,” Ramiro whispered from the darkness behind him.

My father held up a hand to silence him.

He kept his eyes locked on the glowing central screen.

Patricia locked the cabinet and returned the key to the desk drawer.

She pulled her sleeve over her hand and wiped the brass key before sliding the drawer shut.

“He will be devastated,” she told the caller.

“He trusts that old woman with his life.”

“When he sees her signature on the confession, he will break.”

She laughed softly, a sound that chilled my father to the bone.

“I will be the only one left to comfort him.”

“And the girls will have no one else to turn to.”

She ended the call and slipped her phone back into her silk pocket.

She stood in the center of the dark study for a moment, adjusting her hair in the reflection of the glass cabinet.