Chapter 34 - The Confession on the Rug
I remained seated behind my desk, watching her with a quiet, dispassionate gaze. I didn't invite her to sit down, nor did I stand to greet her.
“You’re trespassing, Paulina,” I said evenly. “The restraining order may have expired, but your welcome here vanished a long time ago.”
Paulina sank slowly to her knees, right on the exact same spot where she had once begged for money years ago. But this time, there was no performative hysteria, no desperate manipulation—only the hollow, crushing weight of absolute defeat.
“I know,” Paulina wept softly, pressing her forehead against her hands. “I don't expect you to forgive me. I don't even expect you to look at me. I... I just needed to see you one last time before... before my life is completely over.”
“What happened to you, Paulina?” I asked, my voice devoid of mockery, filled only with cold curiosity.
“The diner where I worked closed down six months ago,” she sobbed. “Diego died in federal prison last winter—a massive heart attack in his cell, completely forgotten by everyone. Mom is gone. The society friends we spent our whole lives trying to impress... they pretended I didn't exist the moment we lost our money. I have nothing, Mara. Absolutely nothing.”
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She looked up, her tear-streaked face twisted with agonizing regret. “You were right about everything. We built our entire world on sand. We thought we were aristocrats, but we were just monsters wearing expensive clothes.”
I stood up slowly, walking around the mahogany desk until I stood a few feet away from her.
