Inheritance of Shadows

The sun was just beginning to filter through the windows when Javier stirred awake. The house was eerily silent, a stark contrast to the previous day’s gathering. It seemed the routines of daily life had swept everyone back into their own worlds, as though they had already begun to move on from his mother’s passing. Javier took a deep breath, steeling himself for what lay ahead.

He glanced at his phone and saw several missed messages from his wife back in California. Sitting up, he dialed her number, feeling a pang of longing for the life he’d left behind. When she answered, her voice was filled with concern as he updated her on the events so far. “How much longer do you think you’ll be there?” she asked.

Javier sighed. “I’m not sure. I’m planning to stay just long enough to get everything sorted out. There’s a lot more to deal with than I thought, and...well, things aren’t exactly what I expected.”

After sharing some small talk about life back home, Javier asked, “How are Damian and Helena? Are they still asleep?”

“They were up late waiting to hear from you,” his wife replied. “They miss you, you know.”

Hearing this, Javier’s heart ached. He missed his children dearly and wished he could be there for them. But he knew he had a responsibility here, to honor his mother’s legacy and to deal with the mess that Lucia seemed to have left in her wake. Reassuring his wife that he’d be home as soon as he could, Javier said his goodbyes and hung up, setting his resolve to start assessing the state of his inheritance.

As he stepped outside and made his way toward the village center, only a few streets away, he felt a strange mix of emotions. Though he hadn’t lived in San Miguel Topilejo for years, he was surprised by how many familiar faces greeted him warmly along the way. It was a reminder that, despite the distance, he was still known and welcomed here. The village itself hadn’t changed much—cobblestone streets, vibrant stalls, and the gentle hum of life that seemed to flow around him like an old song.

When he reached the notary’s office, Javier walked in, feeling a sense of purpose. At the desk, the secretary asked if he had an appointment. “No,” he replied. “But my name is Javier Betancourt.”

The name seemed to catch the secretary’s attention, and she quickly disappeared into the back to inform the notary of his arrival. Within moments, Javier was ushered into the office, where the notary greeted him warmly and asked what he could do to help.

“I’m here to learn about the process for inheriting my mother’s estate,” Javier said. “I understand she set everything up beforehand.”

The notary nodded. “Yes, your mother was very organized. All that’s needed now is your birth certificate, a valid ID, and your mother’s death certificate. Once we have those, the property and assets will transfer to you.”

Javier thanked the notary, feeling relieved by the straightforward process. The only remaining document he needed was the death certificate, which would be ready the following day. As he left the office, he decided to stop by his aunt Sofia’s house nearby, drawn by a desire for the familiar comfort of family.

When he arrived, his uncle Benito greeted him warmly, pulling him into an embrace. “How are you, my boy?”

Javier managed a small smile. “I’m trying my best, Uncle. It’s hard to believe she’s gone. I hadn’t seen her in so long, and to come back now, just to say goodbye…”

Benito gave him a sympathetic nod. “I understand, son. Losing a mother leaves a mark that doesn’t ever fully go away. But we’re here for you, and you’ll find your way forward.”

Inside, his aunt Sofia and his cousins—Alex, Alexandra, Emilia, and Edith—welcomed him with open arms. They had prepared a meal in his honor, a spread of mole, rice, and steaks that filled the house with the rich, familiar aromas of his childhood. As they sat down to eat, Sofia asked what his plans were now that he had returned.

Javier explained what the notary had told him, outlining his intention to settle the inheritance paperwork, repair the house, and restore his mother’s business affairs before returning to California. “I’ll probably leave someone to manage the property and the businesses here,” he added, already thinking of a life split between his responsibilities here and his family back home.

But his uncle shook his head, his gaze steady. “Javier, that may not be the best choice. Your sister’s been prowling around like a wolf that’s smelled blood. She tried to get your mother to sign everything over to her before she passed. If you leave, she’ll see it as a chance to take everything for herself. This is your home, son—if you want to keep it, you’ll have to stay and stand your ground.”

Javier was silent for a moment, absorbing his uncle’s words. Part of him longed to return to California and the life he had built with his wife and children. But another part of him—a part he’d perhaps tried to ignore—felt the pull of his family’s legacy, the weight of the Betancourt name. His mother had entrusted this land, this life, to him. Could he walk away so easily?

As the meal ended, he shared a few memories with his cousins, reminiscing about their adventures growing up. When it was time to leave, he promised to visit again soon, grateful for the time spent in their company.

Returning to the family home, Javier felt a sense of purpose settling within him. This wasn’t just a house; it was the place where his mother had worked tirelessly to build a life for him and Lucia. His heart ached with the realization that he was now the one responsible for this legacy, a responsibility he had long taken for granted.

He made his way to his mother’s office—a room he had rarely entered in recent years. The large leather chair, the solid wooden desk, the rug worn thin in spots—all of it was just as he remembered. Sitting in the chair, he felt a strange sense of pride mixed with sorrow. His mother had once told him that one day, this would be his office, his seat. Now that day had come, though not in the way he had imagined.

Just then, his phone rang, jolting him from his thoughts. It was his wife, asking how things had gone with the notary. He filled her in on the details, including the conversation he’d had with his aunt and uncle.

“So what will you do?” she asked, a hint of worry in her voice. “This is your mother’s legacy. You can’t just walk away from it.”

Javier took a deep breath, struggling with the weight of the decision before him. “I know. But I can’t just abandon you and the kids either. You’re my family too, and I need to be there for you.”

There was a pause, and then his wife spoke softly. “We’ll come to you, Javier. I’ll bring baby Victoria with me. Damian and Helena can stay to finish the school year, and I’ll have my mom and sisters check in on them.”

Relief flooded through him, and he felt a new sense of clarity. They could make this work, together. “That would mean so much,” he said, gratitude filling his voice. “I’ll be ready for you.”

After they hung up, Javier looked around the office once more, feeling the weight of his mother’s dreams and sacrifices settle over him. He would move into her room, he decided; he was now the head of the Betancourt family, and it was time he took up that role.

He had much to do, but for the first time, he felt prepared to face it.