She shrugged casually, a gesture so indifferent that it made my blood boil.

“Ricardo’s family needed somewhere to stay, and the house is usually empty. I figured you wouldn’t mind.”

“You figured wrong.”

Ricardo stepped closer, his jaw tight.

“Look, there are fifteen people here who drove for hours from Puebla and Mexico City. You’re just one person. Do the math. Go back to Veracruz and come next weekend.”

I stared at him, at the sheer arrogance in his voice.

His relatives were watching now.

Some looked uncomfortable.

Others smirked, as if the whole scene were amusing.

Ricardo’s mother even shook her head at me like I was the unreasonable one.

Something inside me shifted in that moment.

All my life I had been the one who compromised.

The sister who avoided conflict.

The daughter who tried to keep the peace.

I had lent Camila money when she and Ricardo struggled with their mortgage.

I had babysat their kids countless times without complaining.

Last summer I even helped Ricardo’s brother move houses, carrying boxes all day under the brutal Veracruz heat.

And this was how they repaid me.

I smiled.

It wasn’t a friendly smile.

It was the smile of someone who had just decided they were done being taken advantage of.

“Okay,” I said calmly.
“I’ll leave.”

Ricardo looked slightly surprised, as if he expected an argument.

“Good. Finally, some common sense.”