“I did.”
Esperanza set the cup down carefully.
“Using my name?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
Elena pressed her palms together.
“Because I was trying to find out who had been using it.”
No one spoke.
Elena continued.
“Three years ago, after Tomás was born, I received a copy of a clinic invoice. It listed Ana Valdés as the patient and used this house as the billing address.”
Mother Caridad’s eyes narrowed.
“Did you contact the clinic?”
“I did. They refused to speak with me because I was not the patient.”
“So you did nothing?”
“I began writing letters.”
“To whom?”
“The diocese. Doctor Paloma. Father Esteban. Mother Inés, before I remembered she had already died.”
Her mouth tightened at the last admission.
“I was frightened and confused. Gabriel was ill by then. I did not know whether Ana—whether Esperanza—had chosen another arrangement and wanted privacy.”
Esperanza looked at her.
