out.
For two years I had lived with a simplified version of the tragedy.
A defective part.
A mistake.
Bad luck.
-What happened?
“There were people trying to pressure me. They wanted contracts and access to land that I wasn’t willing to give up.”
—What does Diego have to do with this?
Vicente swallowed hard.
—I must have been under that scaffolding that morning.
I looked at him without understanding.
—Diego saw that something was wrong
seconds before it gave way.
He paused.
—He pushed me.
The photograph fell from my hands.
-No.
—He died where I should have died.
I felt such brutal rage that I had to grab onto the desk.
—And you never thought of telling me?
-Every day.
—But he hired me.
—When I found out who you were, I wanted to make sure that you and Mia were okay.
I let out a bitter laugh.
—
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