Chapter 5 - The Locked Gates
"You locked me out of your life, so I locked you out of my house. Welcome home."
The flight back to Mexico City was agonizing. Paola complained the entire way, Camila refused to speak to either of them, and Arturo felt a cold dread pooling in his stomach.
It was late Sunday evening when their taxi finally pulled up to the gate of their beautiful, two-story home in the upscale neighborhood of Coyoacán. The house, built with high stone walls and a grand iron gate, looked dark and quiet.
"Thank God," Paola sighed, grabbing her bags. "At least we are home. I need a hot bath and a glass of wine to forget this pathetic excuse for a trip."
They walked up to the iron gate. Arturo reached into his pocket and pulled out his keychain. He slid the key into the heavy brass lock.
It wouldn't turn.
"What's wrong?" Paola asked, her voice dripping with irritation. "Open the gate, Arturo."
"The key... it isn't fitting," Arturo muttered, sweat breaking out on his forehead. He jiggled the key, pushing it harder, but it refused to budge. "Did you change the lock before we left?"
"Of course not! Why would I do that?"
Arturo tried his other keys, but none of them worked. In fact, upon closer inspection, he realized the entire lock mechanism had been replaced with a state-of-the-art, digital biometric lock.
"What is going on here?!" Paola screamed, grabbing the iron bars and shaking them. "Did someone break into our house?!"
"Look," Camila pointed to the driveway.
Sitting in the driveway, parked right where Arturo usually kept his SUV, was a brand-new, matte-black Mercedes-Benz G-Wagon.
"Who does that belong to?" Arturo whispered, his heart stopping.
Suddenly, the floodlights of the house snapped on, blinding them. The heavy wooden front door of the house swung open, and a warm, golden light spilled out onto the manicured lawn.
Two tall, muscular men in dark suits stepped out, standing like sentinels on either side of the entrance.
And then, walking out between them, came a woman.
She wore a flawless white silk pantsuit, a diamond necklace that caught the light, and her hair was styled to perfection. She held a crystal glass of sparkling water in her hand.
Arturo rubbed his eyes, thinking he was hallucinating. "M-Mom?"
"Carmen?!" Paola gasped, her jaw dropping so low it looked as though it might hit the pavement. "What are you doing in our house? And what are you wearing?!"
Carmen walked slowly down the stone path, stopping just a few feet away from the locked iron gate. She looked down at them with a look of calm, detached amusement.
"Good evening, Arturo. Paola. Camila," Carmen said, her voice smooth and resonant. "I hope you had a lovely, relaxing vacation in Cabo."
"Mom, what is this joke?" Arturo demanded, his face turning red. "Why are the locks changed? Who are these men? Open the gate right now!"
"I'm afraid I can't do that, Arturo," Carmen said softly, taking a sip of her water. "This is private property. And you are trespassing."
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"Your property?!" Paola shrieked, her voice cracking. "Have you lost your senile mind, old woman? We own this house! We have the deed! Get out of our house before I call the police!"
"Oh, please, call them," Carmen smiled, gesturing to one of her security guards. "In fact, I've already called them for you. They should be here any minute to enforce the eviction notice."
