Inheritance of Shadows

Javier stood at the threshold of the house, taking in the scent of dust and decay. The familiar creak of the old wooden door as he pushed it open seemed to welcome him back, though he wasn't sure he could ever feel truly at home here again. Inside, the shadows of his childhood lingered, clinging to the corners of the rooms like ghosts, as if they were waiting for him to remember. The walls, once alive with color and warmth, were now dim, their faded paint barely visible beneath layers of dust.

His mother had always made the house a sanctuary, despite its modesty. She had been both mother and father to him, her love fierce enough to fill the space his absent father had left behind. She'd raised him with dignity, never letting him feel the sting of not having a father figure in the house. The absence of a man had never mattered to her, or to him-not when there was so much love to fill the void. Angela Betancourt had always made sure Javier knew he was everything she needed.

Walking through the hall, Javier's gaze fell on the old photographs that lined the walls. There were pictures of him as a boy, running through the garden with Lucia by his side, their laughter filling the air. It was hard to imagine the carefree days now, standing in this broken house, in this hollow place that was supposed to be their home. The warmth he remembered was gone, replaced by cold emptiness.

He moved forward, his footsteps heavy on the worn wooden floor, the boards groaning beneath his weight as if protesting the years of neglect. As he entered the living room, the scene before him was jarring. The wake was being held here, just as his mother would have wanted it-at home, surrounded by family. But the quality of the event was a far cry from what his mother deserved.

The room, once filled with the comforting hum of family gatherings, now seemed cold and sterile. The white candles flickered dimly, casting weak shadows across the room, their light failing to illuminate the sorrow that hung in the air. The floral arrangements were sparse, cheap even. It felt wrong, like a hastily thrown together affair. This was not the way his mother had imagined her passing being honored. She had always been meticulous in life, her attention to detail extending even to moments of great significance.

Javier's gaze moved across the room, and his heart sank. His sister, Lucia, was seated at the far side, her posture perfect as always, her hair impeccably styled. She was dressed in a black gown, the kind of thing you would wear to a high-society event, not a wake in a rundown house in the mountains. Beside her was her husband, Marco, a man Javier had always found off-putting-too polished, too eager to show off his wealth. And there, around their necks, on their fingers, and at their wrists, were jewels. Gold, diamonds, sparkling rings-things that did not belong in this setting, this house.

Javier's stomach churned. How could she? How could Lucia, who had been entrusted with their mother's care, allow everything to fall into disrepair while she and her family flaunted wealth so recklessly? The house was in ruins, the garden overrun with weeds, but Lucia and Marco were decked out in finery that spoke of extravagance and greed.

Javier's eyes flicked over to the children. Their clothes, too, were pristine and expensive. They didn't belong in this house-this house that had once been filled with the smell of his mother's cooking, with laughter, with life. The contrast between the dilapidated home and the lavish display of wealth before him was too stark, too painful.

He forced himself to stay calm, not wanting to create a scene in front of everyone. His mother had taught him better than that. She had always taught him to handle things with grace, even in the most difficult situations. Javier didn't want to dishonor her memory by starting a confrontation now, not when her body was still in the other room, awaiting its final resting place.

Instead, he walked forward, his gaze steady, his voice controlled. He approached his sister, who looked up at him as though nothing was out of place, as though everything had been perfectly normal.

"Lucia," he greeted her, his tone warm but distant, careful. "I'm sorry for your loss."

Her smile was too practiced, too polite, as though she were greeting a business associate rather than her brother. "Javier," she replied, her voice cool but not unkind. "I wasn't sure when you'd arrive. I'm glad you could make it."

Javier nodded, though he wasn't sure he could look her in the eye without giving away the storm brewing inside him. "I came as soon as I could. I need to speak with you, Lucia," he said quietly, his gaze scanning the room before returning to her. "Once the wake and the burial are over, we need to talk."

Lucia's smile faltered for a moment, but she quickly recovered, her expression slipping back into its practiced neutrality. "Of course, Javier. We can talk later. After everything is finished."

Javier didn't trust himself to say more. He didn't trust his words not to betray the anger that seethed beneath the surface. So instead, he nodded, stepping back and turning his attention to the somber faces around the room. His mind raced as he took in the scene. His sister had turned their mother's death into a spectacle, a parade of wealth and excess, while the very house she had called home lay in tatters. It didn't make sense.

But Javier wasn't here to make sense of it-not yet. He was here to do what his mother had asked of him: to reclaim what was rightfully his. The land, the fortune, everything Angela had worked for. And he wouldn't leave until he had done it. But first, he had to confront the person who had caused so much damage-the person who had let their mother suffer, all while padding her own pockets with money that should have gone to care for the family.

As he stepped away from his sister, his eyes lingered on the casket in the corner of the room. He could barely bring himself to look at it, his mind still reeling with questions and pain. But the truth was out there, hidden somewhere beneath the surface of this broken family. And Javier was determined to uncover it, no matter what it took.