“It is paper money,” I said. “It was never really there.”

My tablet on the counter chimed next.

A press release had just been published by the board of the La Moraleja Country Club.

The board announced the immediate suspension of Alvaro Montero’s membership, citing a violation of the club’s ethical standards.

I smiled, though there was no humor in it.

Beatriz de la Iglesia had already posted a statement on her public social media account.

She wrote about her deep shock and her complete ignorance of Alvaro’s financial dealings.

She called his actions a betrayal of the entire community.

“She was the woman who had begged Alvaro to invest her family’s trust fund only three months ago,” I said.

“Now she is pretending she barely knows his name.”

Lucía stood up and began to pace the length of the wooden floor.

Her silk blouse was wrinkled, and her heels made a sharp, clicking sound on the oak boards.

“This is going to ruin me too,” she said.

She stopped by the fireplace, her fingers tapping against her collarbone.

“They will think I was part of it,” she said.