Chapter 2 Works of Art

By Irina

While they finished reading, and given Paty's insistence — she wasn't satisfied with keeping my parents' mansion, most of its contents, two cars, and 75% of a prosperous company — because she and her daughter practically took over Kroes Shoes, I wondered what her next move against me would be.

I remembered my mother's jewelry. I think it's all stored in my room. I need to check the jewelry box before I leave.

My mind wandered through the house, searching for cherished memories.

I came to the photographs of my parents. I don't think I want them unless it's to burn them.

The paintings!

Many were originals—at least, that's what my father said. He always talked about priceless works of art that had been in the mansion forever.

After a remodel, my father insisted that I hang two in particular in my bedroom. I didn't agree at the time, but I didn't dare refuse because he insisted so much, saying they were my mother's favorites.

She loved art.

I used to paint, too. Those memories come to mind with a smile.

I'm going to have problems when I try to take those paintings with me.

We conclude the reading of the will.

I looked at Paty and Rosie.

I never felt that my half-sister was empathetic to my situation at all.

At first, I thought her mother had influenced her, but I've long believed that the student surpassed the teacher.

"Mr. . .

I began to speak.

"I would like to put my belongings away with you as witnesses."

My request surprised everyone.

Paty's face changed.

"Do you think I'm going to steal your junk?"

"Yeah."

"You insolent brat!"

He tried to slap me but stopped at the last moment.

"First of all, I would like to thank the two witnesses: Mrs. Elisa Sedoi de Cassani and Mr. Fernando Gentile. Mrs. Sedoi de Cassani witnessed the reading of the will at the request of the late Máximo Kroes and on behalf of Miss Irina Kroes."

"I thought he was a lawyer from his firm. Someone I don't know doesn't have to be a witness."

Paty complained, showing that she knew nothing about the law.

He knew how to exert pressure and devise malevolent plans.

"Madam, two witnesses were required, and one of them was for Miss Irina."

—My daughter had no witnesses.

—Lady...

The lawyer said, and I think he held back so as not to insult her.

"Mrs. Sedoi is on your side, and you are considered to be looking out for your daughter's interests."

Elisa never attacked me nor treated me badly. However, she often looked at me in a bad way. I think Paty must have told her a thousand lies about me.

I know they're second or distant cousins, but they're very close. In fact, Elisa's youngest son is the director of Kroes Shoes.

I don't even want to think about him. He was always part of the bullying Rosie subjected me to, except for the time she submerged me in the pool and he rescued me.

I fainted, and he must have helped me because he thought I was dead.

He performed mouth-to-mouth resuscitation on me and argued with his cousin.

They're hardly related—only in the fifth or sixth degree—and I'm sure Rosie is in love with him.

I once heard that Paty and Elisa want them to get married.

He doesn't seem indifferent to my half-sister.

Rosie is a beautiful, sensual woman who knows how to flirt and seduce. She got that from her mother.

I don't want to waste time thinking about them or... Roque.

I asked the lawyer to rent a moving truck because I don't know what the conditions are like at my new place. He wanted to take me right to my bed at that very moment.

The lawyer agreed immediately.

"You're capricious," Paty says.

Paty said.

"At this moment, I would like to go through the different rooms of the house to make sure nothing of my mother's is left behind."

I said this, ignoring Paty.

I stood up and went to my father's study. Two maids appeared to help me move the things I wanted to keep.

Upon entering, I went to my father's desk drawers, but they were empty.

Paty's smile widened.

I gave the maids the order to take down a painting.

"No! I like that painting!"

I looked at her with disdain.

"I'm sorry, but I'm taking that painting."

I'm not going to allow it.

Ladies, you need to come to an agreement.

The lawyer interjected.

I approached the painting, knowing that my mother had painted it. At that moment, I saw her signature, which I had never noticed before.

"At least you acknowledge that my mother was a great artist. She painted that picture."

I said with great pleasure.

For a moment, Paty's face turned pale.

"That's a lie!"

That's all he could say.

"Gentlemen, please verify that the signature on this painting belongs to my late and beloved mother."

The lawyer searched through some files on his cell phone and nodded.

"My father made it clear that I could take whatever belonged to my mother.

The same thing happened with most of the paintings displayed in our mansion.

I didn't remember that my mother painted so much, nor that she painted so well.

When I came across two paintings without her signature, I had them taken down for inspection.

I remembered that they had bought them on one of our trips to Europe, possibly the last one.

Both still had a sticker on the back that said, in very small print, "Happy birthday, my beloved," followed by my mother's birthday.

I remember how bored I was in the art gallery where my father bought those paintings for my mother.

That doesn't mean anything; he could have given them to me.

There's my mother's birthday date. She was definitely the woman he loved. I remember he bought the paintings at an art gallery in France on one of our trips.

I realized that my father never traveled to Europe with Paty.

Together with Paty and Rosie, we took a few trips to the Caribbean, nothing more.

Rosie was very quiet. I think that, until that moment, she believed she had more rights than I did to everything that belonged to my father. She was realizing that my mother was very important to my father, and so was I.

Maybe he always knew, and his behavior was due to jealousy and envy.

The moving truck arrived, and I wrapped the paintings with the care they deserved.

"We would have to open the safe."

Paty turned pale again.

"What's inside is my responsibility," she said.

She said.

"You won't know if it applies to you until you know what's there."

You want to take everything that's ours," Rosie said.

Rosie said.

"Are the paintings my mother owns?"

I asked him, challenging him to give me an answer.

"The 'ma'am' thing is a thing of the past with you," he said with great arrogance.

He said arrogantly.

"When I can prove that you instigated my rape, you'll eat your words."

Rosie never thought I would accuse her in front of so many people.

"You have to be careful with your accusations; they're going to backfire on you."

Patty wasted no time defending her daughter.

"Don't forget that lies are discovered sooner or later."

I said, not letting myself be intimidated. What I didn't expect was for her to get nervous.

"Nobody lied."

Her words made me think about how many lies must surround her. However, I just smiled and kept my mouth shut.

"Please, since you have so many rights, put the code in the safe."

I told him, smiling bigger than before.

I knew the combination was my parents' wedding date and my name.

Paty looked at everyone and entered her date of birth. Then she tried her daughter's date of birth and then mine.

"You failed. Now it's my turn. Turn around. It's obvious you have no idea. You may be the owner of this house, but you're not the woman who built this home. You only destroyed it."

Fernando Gentile—who I still have no idea who he is—smiled for a moment, then became serious again.

He came closer to me, blocking the view of the others.

"Don't worry. I know the combination, too."

I didn't like that either. I'd never seen anything like it in my life.

Clearly, my father trusted him.

I type in the corresponding numbers and letters, and the safe opens.

Inside, there were only a few dollars—not even $10,000—and a jewelry box containing several pieces of jewelry.

I thought I had all the jewelry that had belonged to my mother.

When Paty said they were hers, I didn't want to fight over them, but I saw a bracelet that looked familiar.

My mother was wearing it in a photo.

"Excuse me, but those jewels belong to my mother."

Not everything belongs to her. Máximo gave me things, too.

Gentlemen, that bracelet belonged to my mother. She's wearing it in a photo.

After looking through the family photo albums in the library, I realized that the bracelet and all of the other jewels belonged to my mother.

Paty's fury was palpable.

Even Elisa seemed amazed by her cousin's behavior, or whatever their relationship was.

Paty was demonstrating all her human misery.

I didn't know if there were more things that had belonged to my mother.

I wanted to leave.

I went to my room.

The maids packed my belongings quickly; they did so out of fear.

The moving company had already provided them with several baskets.

I asked the movers to take apart my bed and load it onto the truck.

I took everything from my room: the armchair, cushions, bedside tables, nightstands, and other necessities.

I'm not miserable, but these are my things.

I couldn't find my mother's canvases or her painting supplies, but I assumed Paty had thrown them away.

It pained me to think that my own father had taken me out of my home. Thinking about it now, though, I realize that, from the day my mother died, that house ceased to be a home.