Beltrán resumes his professional voice, perhaps out of mercy. “I strongly recommend no one sign anything today. Señorita Ávila needs independent legal counsel immediately. Señora Valdés, you should continue through your attorney regarding creditor communication and any potential elective rights or reimbursement claims.”
You nod.
This is the administrative ending to what had entered as theater.
Ximena does not move.
“I loved him,” she says suddenly.
No one responds.
It is not the right sentence for the room, but perhaps it is the only one she has left. Love, when stripped of reward, often becomes the final defense of the humiliated. If she can still say she loved him, then maybe she can make this into tragedy rather than ridicule. Maybe she can still imagine herself as wronged rather than merely fooled.
You surprise yourself by answering gently.
“I think,” you say, “you loved the man he let you meet.”
She looks up, eyes glassy now
