Chapter 3
Chapter 3: The Cat and Mouse Game Begins
The next morning, an underlying tension thickened the air in the house.
Doña Teresa shuffled slowly into the kitchen. She wore a faded, wrinkled robe that Andrés had secretly slipped through the window before dawn. She deliberately dragged her slippers across the floor, creating a slow, grating sound.
She stopped in the middle of the kitchen, staring blankly at the refrigerator as if it were an alien machine from another planet.
Renata was standing by the counter, brewing coffee. Her smartphone sat conspicuously on the marble surface, the screen brightly lit with the voice memo app already recording, eager to capture any "evidence" to bolster her narrative of a "demented mother-in-law" for relatives and doctors.
Doña Teresa slowly turned and ambled over to the oven. She knocked her bony knuckles gently against the glass door, then looked at Renata with a bewildered expression:
"Excuse me, young lady... does the bus to Tonalá leave from this terminal? I've been waiting for so long."
Renata offered a smile—a sickeningly sweet, fabricated smile, the kind people use when they know they are performing for an audience.
"Look at this, this is why I am always so exhausted, Andrés," Renata sighed, turning to him as he sat sipping coffee at the dining table.
"No one in this family, not even you, understands what I have to endure every single day with an old woman who is confused one minute and aggressively breaking things the next. But you'll see. Eventually, you'll see the truth."
Right at that moment, Doña Teresa reached for the sugar jar and "accidentally" knocked it entirely off the counter. White sugar scattered everywhere across the tiles.
Renata’s face contorted. Her fake patience vanished. She lunged forward like a vicious animal, her red-manicured hand clamping down brutally on Doña Teresa’s wrist, squeezing so hard the wrinkled skin turned pale from lack of blood.
"What the hell are you doing?!" she hissed through gritted teeth.
Andrés remained completely motionless, his cold eyes tracking every one of Renata’s movements. He didn't flinch, offering only a flat, even voice:
"Calm down, Renata. Have a little patience with my mother."
Renata laughed bitterly, releasing Doña Teresa’s arm. She was absolutely convinced that, given her mother-in-law's "crazy" behavior and Andrés’s apparent indifference, she had entirely secured his trust.
After Doña Teresa was locked back in her room, Renata eagerly returned to the dining table and flipped open her large file folder.
"The psychiatric evaluation is scheduled for 9:00 AM tomorrow, with Dr. Jimena Aranda, a top geriatric psychiatrist at a private clinic in Providencia." Her eyes gleamed with greed.
"If the evaluation declares her legally incapacitated, I need you to immediately sign the documents appointing me as her legal guardian, along with a full power of attorney to manage her assets."
She tapped her fingernail against the wooden table, her tone dripping with calculation:
"Your mother's old house in downtown Guadalajara is sitting empty, which is a terrible waste. We can sell it to cover the costs of a 'proper' and high-end care facility for her."
Andrés took a slow sip of coffee, his gaze probing:
"Why rush to sell a prime property that is currently generating income and is completely debt-free?"
Renata sneered, answering instantly as if reading from a script:
May you like
"Because it is debt-free and in a prime location, that's exactly why it’s a golden opportunity right now. We sell early, we get a high price. Don't you understand?"
That money-driven answer threw a bucket of ice water over any last, lingering hope Andrés might have had. It firmly confirmed that none of her actions had ever stemmed from love or a desire to care for his mother.
