Chapter 6
Chapter 6: The Perfect Play at the Clinic
Renata woke up very early. She meticulously applied her makeup, sprayed on her most expensive French perfume, and clasped a string of shimmering pearls around her neck. For her, this morning was not a stressful doctor's visit; it was a grand celebration: the legal funeral of Doña Teresa's freedom.
Throughout the car ride, Renata played the role of the "patient, long-suffering daughter-in-law." She turned to the backseat, where Doña Teresa sat in silence, and spoke in a patronizing, sickeningly sweet tone:
"Mother, later when we see the doctor, remember you have to be a good girl and listen. Don't argue with the doctor. Your confusion lately makes you very aggressive. It is best that you obediently accept the help the doctor and I are offering, before you lose the respect of everyone around you."
Doña Teresa did not reply. She turned her face toward the window, watching the bustling traffic of the familiar Guadalajara streets where she had spent her entire life.
"Rest assured, daughter-in-law. I will try my best to remember everything in the most vivid detail."
She replied with a calm, flat tone that carried a profound, hidden weight.
Upon arriving at the upscale private clinic in Providencia, Renata eagerly marched into Dr. Jimena Aranda's office. She flashed a professional, rehearsed smile and slammed a thick, bloated file onto the doctor's desk.
Renata's file was stuffed with intentionally exaggerated medical notes, outdated prescriptions for sedatives, and written testimonies from neighbors who had been completely brainwashed by the fabricated stories she had spun.
Andrés stood by the door with his arms crossed, patiently waiting until Renata smiled with deep satisfaction and stepped back.
Only then did he step forward smoothly, placing a different, thinner file—heavy with undeniable truth—directly onto Dr. Aranda’s desk.
Inside that file were: the forensic analysis proving the forged signature on the bank loan; the access log showing the deletion of the security footage from Renata's computer; the professional locksmith's report detailing the one-way deadbolt; the military doctor's medical report with high-resolution photos of the defensive bruising; the USB drive containing the hidden camera footage; and the audio recordings from the dining table.
Dr. Aranda, a sharp-eyed, highly professional middle-aged woman, opened Andrés's file. She quickly flipped through the first few pages, her brow furrowing deeply. She looked up, her gaze locking directly onto the finger-shaped bruises stamped into Doña Teresa's wrists.
Dr. Aranda took a deep breath, closed both files, and pressed the intercom button to call her nurse:
May you like
"Excuse me, Renata, I must ask you and Andrés to remain seated here. No one is permitted to leave this office until I have reached my final conclusion. Nurse, lock the outer door."
The official psychological evaluation began.
