Chapter 27 - The Squalor
The next morning, Camila did not go to the lawyer's office. She had a personal stop to make first.
The suburbs on the outskirts of the city were a far cry from the gated, hyper-secure communities the Santilláns were accustomed to. The apartment complex was old, the paint peeling from the concrete walls, the narrow hallways smelling of cheap cooking oil and dampness.
Camila walked down the dimly lit corridor, the rhythmic click of her heels echoing off the linoleum floor. She stopped in front of Door 4B.
She did not pound on the door. She raised her hand and knocked three times, slow and deliberate.
May you like
The door unlocked with the rattle of a cheap chain. It swung open a few inches, revealing the tired, deeply aged face of Doña Elvira. The haughty matriarch was gone. She wore a faded robe, her hair unkempt, her wrists completely bare of the diamonds she once flaunted.
When Elvira saw Camila standing in the hallway, her face drained of all color.
