“It is done,” I said.

I picked up the blue folder and tucked it under my arm.

“The police will want to talk to you tomorrow, Matthew.”

“I am ready,” he said.

“My lawyer has the cooperation agreement.”

“Good,” I said.

“Go home to your family, Matthew.”

He nodded, adjusted his coat, and walked down the stairs.

I stood alone in the study for a long time.

I looked out the tall window at the street below.

Two police vehicles sat with their blue lights flashing against the wet pavement.

A small crowd of neighbors had gathered under black umbrellas.

They watched as Alvaro was helped into the back of a dark sedan.

The car drove away, its tires splashing through the puddles.

I walked down the hall to the children’s bedrooms.

They were asleep, their breathing soft and even.

Their toys were scattered across the floor.

I closed their doors gently.

The next morning, the newspapers were filled with Alvaro’s face.

The headlines called it the collapse of an empire.

I sat in my lawyer’s office on the Calle de Serrano.