Inheritance of Shadows

XIV

Javier and Damian took their seats, the tension between them palpable. As the minutes ticked by, Damian finally broke the silence. "Dad," he began hesitantly, "do you hate her?"

Javier turned to his son, his brow furrowing. "Hate who?"

Damian shifted uncomfortably. "Lucia. I mean, do you hate her for what she's done?"

Javier leaned back in his chair, his gaze distant. He took a deep breath before answering. "I don't hate her, Damian. Hate... it's a heavy thing to carry. What I feel for her is... pity."

Damian frowned, confused. "Pity? After everything she's done?"

Javier nodded. "Yes. As the firstborn, I always felt it was my responsibility to take care of the family. Maybe I made mistakes that led her to feel entitled. But our mother raised us the same way. Lucia chose to stray from those teachings, and that's something I pity. She could've been so much more, Damian. I wish I'd spent more time with our mother, like she did. But I made my choices, and I have to live with them. Hate wouldn't change anything."

Damian was quiet, his father's words sinking in. He looked as though he wanted to say more, but before he could, their names were called. A clerk led them into an office lined with shelves of thick, worn volumes. A middle-aged woman with glasses perched on her nose greeted them from behind a desk.

"Good morning," she said, motioning for them to sit. "What can I do for you today?"

Javier explained the situation, his voice steady but tinged with frustration. He provided the address and the history of the property, emphasizing his belief that the sale had been made under false pretenses. The woman listened carefully, typing into her computer as he spoke. After a few moments, she turned the screen toward them.

"This property," she began, pointing to a highlighted entry, "was recently sold by Lucia Betancourt, listed here as the sole inheritor of the estate."

Javier stiffened. "Sole inheritor? That's impossible. I inherited this property after my mother's passing."

The woman frowned, clearly puzzled. "The sale was processed with documentation stating that Lucia Betancourt is the only child of Angela Betancourt. The paperwork appeared legitimate."

Damian shot to his feet, his voice rising. "That's a lie! My dad is five years older than her. He's the firstborn!"

The clerk raised her hands, her tone calming. "I understand this is upsetting. But we only handle the sale and title changes. For disputes, you'd need to speak with the Registry of Property."

Javier's shoulders slumped, the weight of the revelation pressing down on him. Damian, sensing his father's distress, leaned forward. "Can we get a copy of this information or a written statement?"

The woman nodded. "Of course. I'll just need an ID to verify your identity and to note who requested it."

Damian nudged his father, who mechanically handed over his ID. Once they received the documents, the two left the office in silence.

The drive back to the village was subdued, the hum of the engine the only sound. Damian occasionally glanced at his father, whose usual composure seemed shaken. For the first time, Damian saw a vulnerability in Javier that he had never seen before, and it left a heavy feeling in his chest.

When they arrived at the house Uncle Benito had offered, Alicia and Sofia met them at the door. The family gathered in the dining room, the tension in the air thick as Javier recounted what they had learned. The room, filled with the scents of wood polish and freshly brewed coffee, seemed to close in on them as the weight of Lucia's actions settled over everyone.

"She forged documents to erase you," Sofia said, her voice laced with disbelief. "This isn't just theft—it's a crime that could land her in prison."

Uncle Benito, his weathered face etched with concern, leaned forward. "This gives us a strong defense. We can prove you're the firstborn and rightful heir. We have your birth certificate, witnesses, and plenty of evidence. But it's your call, Javier. Taking this to court could destroy your sister."

Javier stood at the head of the table, his gaze sweeping over the faces of his family. He could feel their anger, their resolve, their unwavering support. But the decision rested on his shoulders, and the weight of it threatened to crush him. Lucia was his sister, but her actions had crossed a line he never imagined she would dare to approach.

In the corner, Damian watched his father, his young mind wrestling with emotions he couldn't fully articulate. He didn't just want justice—he wanted his family to be whole again. But deep down, he knew that might never be possible. For now, all he could do was stand by his father's side and face whatever came next.