“Beatatrice,” I corrected. “Call me Beatatrice.”
“Beatatrice,” she repeated, swallowing hard.
Behind me were Teresa, Miguel, and Andrea.
The kids looked at the house with wide eyes.
“It’s huge,” Andrea murmured.
“It’s nice,” Miguel agreed.
Daniel appeared from the kitchen.
He looked better than at the notary’s office, but he still carried guilt in his eyes.
“Mom,” he greeted me.
Then he looked at Teresa.
“You must be Mrs. Campos.”
“Teresa is fine,” she said, extending her hand. “Thank you for having us.”
“We didn’t have a choice,” Emily muttered so quietly it was almost inaudible.
I looked at her pointedly.
She looked down.
“I’m sorry. That was an unnecessary comment. Welcome to the house.”
I showed them the rooms that were assigned to them according to the agreement.
A large bedroom for Teresa.
A smaller one for Miguel.
And Andrea would share with Sarah, by the girl’s own decision.
