My stepdaughter called me a servant at my own table, so I removed my card from everything she used.

I took out my wallet.

—My coffee separately, please.

Fabian looked at me with barely contained anger.

—Are you seriously going to leave like that?

I stood up.

—No. This is how I’m keeping to myself.

I left the restaurant, but before I got to the car I heard footsteps. It was Ximena. She was holding the folded email in her hand. For a second I thought she continue reading …