Chapter 3 The Old Building

By Irina

I said goodbye to the lawyer and Fernando Gentile.

"I'll talk to you tomorrow after you've settled in, unless you'd prefer me to come with you and help."

"No, it's not necessary, although I have no idea where I'm headed."

Fernando smiled, and I could see that his smile was genuine.

"If you need anything, don't hesitate to call me. I'll send you a message with my cell phone number."

"Thank you, sir."

I'll tell you this, sir: although he's not a very big man, he can't be older than 30.

I took the keys to my car, and when I got in, it made a strange noise.

I took it out of the garage and parked in front of the mansion to see what was going on.

The dashboard indicates that there is a problem with the steering.

I got out of the car to tell the moving truck driver that I had a problem.

As I got out, I realized that one of the tires was flat.

Rosie must have done that, I thought.

I saw her come out of the mansion and approach me.

"Do you have a problem, little sister?"

She says, laughing.

Everything about him confirms his stupidity.

"You're not my sister," I tell him angrily.

I tell him angrily.

I noticed her complexion turn pale, but she immediately started laughing again.

I was also right in thinking that the wheel on the rim was her doing.

Fernando quickly approached as he was about to get into his car.

"I'll help you, Irina."

"Thank you."

I never get tired of saying it: You're a slut, always surrounded by men."

He said this as he saw Fernando approach without hesitation to offer his help.

"Why don't you go inside and enjoy the mansion that was stolen from my mother, along with her life?"

"I'm glad you live in a pigsty!"

He said he was entering through the front door. Minutes later, however, he left through the garage. He did it with his car and parked behind me.

I don't know why he told me that the place where I was going to live was a pigsty.

She might know what the property that my maternal grandmother left me is like, though it doesn't make sense for her to know.

Fernando and one of the movers changed the tire on my car.

He cleaned his hands with a damp cloth the truck driver gave him. Before getting into his car, he said he would follow me in case any problems arose.

I thanked him for his help with a small smile, but in reality, I really wanted to cry.

I opened Google Maps and headed to my new home. At least it will be mine. I won't lock myself in my room to avoid Rosie and her mother anymore.

As I crossed the streets and walked away from the neighborhood I knew so well, my soul was torn into a thousand pieces.

I had many relatives, but none were close. On my mother's side, I had some cousins. So, it caught my attention that my grandmother left a property in my name.

After my mother passed away, I didn't have much contact with her family. They blamed my father for my mother's accident and distanced themselves from me because of that.

As for my father's family, he had a brother, Uncle Cesar, who lived in the United States. Whenever my father traveled, he did so alone. I remember accompanying him on a trip shortly after my mother died, but he didn't do that often. This was strange because before the tragedy, we all traveled a lot. We were a very happy family.

At least, that's how it seemed.

I look in the rearview mirror and see Rosie's car following me.

Luckily, Fernando offered to accompany me.

Trusting a complete stranger is the only thing I have left.

As I turned onto an avenue, some of the buildings looked familiar.

I finally arrived at a building and, when I looked at it, I was overcome with emotion.

It took me a few minutes to get out of the car. I did so when Fernando opened the car door for me. I wasn't expecting him to do that. He just wanted to calm me down, but I couldn't.

Rosie stood by the front door, looking at everything with disgust.

The building wasn't new. Its windows were dilapidated. It lacked paint everywhere, and it even had wires hanging off it. It didn't have any of the luxuries of my old mansion. For no apparent reason, I loved that building.

My father knew that, because when I first saw it, we were coming back from running an errand, and the building caught my attention so much that I asked my father to walk around the block so I could see it again.

He did so until he parked in front of it.

I was about ten or twelve years old, and I told my father that the building must have been splendid in its time. I said that I would like to buy it and open a language academy there.

At that time, I was already interested in learning different languages to understand people from different countries.

My dear father laughed but was happy because I had dreams and plans. He always told me that I could achieve whatever I set my mind to, and that I should never stop studying.

Many times, when we were alone together, we passed by there to see that property.

It wasn't from my maternal grandmother!

I cried even more when I saw the trapdoor in his will.

I got out of my car, and Fernando didn't let go of my hand. I was still crying, but from emotion.

Seeing the state of the place, and especially my tears, Rosie burst out laughing.

If only she knew!

"Finally, you have what you deserve."

He finally left, which made him happy. But he didn't know that my tears weren't from sadness; they were from feeling my father's affection.

I also feel guilty because I disappointed my father with my pregnancy.

I wasn't being responsible, and he knew it.

At that moment, the moving truck arrived.

They looked at the building in amazement, especially since we had come from a large mansion in the northern part of the city.

With trembling hands, I opened the iron front door, which was perforated in a honeycomb pattern, allowing you to see inside.

The door didn't seem old to me; quite the contrary, it seemed new.

I looked inside one last time before turning the key a second time.

I pushed the gate open, put one foot inside, and confidently walked in.

The building was very strange.

From where I stood, I could see the backyard.

There were many doors on both sides. I thought I was standing in the middle of a long, roofless corridor because it was quite bright, even though it was already five in the afternoon.

Upon closer inspection, I saw that it was covered, but the lamps there gave off a natural, warm light.

At one point, I was afraid the place wouldn't have any light. I thought this because of the cable hanging from the terrace.

"It's not so bad,"

Fernando told me.

"No, on the contrary, I like the place."

Her gaze was tender, and she stroked my hair.

That disturbed me.

He took a few steps forward and opened the doors that led to the hallway.

They looked like rooms or small apartments.

Each door led to a room that opened onto a distribution hall, which opened onto another room and a bathroom. I discovered that what looked like a closet was actually a Kirchner-style kitchen. They were like small apartments.

Except for the rooms by the first two doors, which needed a little paint, the rest were neatly painted.

The grounds must have been enormous because there were five doors on each side of the corridor. At the end, there was a covered patio, and beyond that, a small landscaped area.

In the covered courtyard, there was a staircase that led to what I assumed was a terrace.

"Miss…

The moving truck driver interrupted me just as I was about to go up the stairs.

"Can we bring the things down before it gets dark?"

Yes, sorry. Please unload everything and leave it at the second door on the right.

I didn't want them to know how big the building is.

The two assistants and the driver began unloading.

"Come upstairs. I'll go with you," Fernando said.

Fernando said.

As soon as I finished climbing, I came to a balcony, and then I saw the building, which seemed to be in perfect condition.

The door was closed.

Fernando handed me a key.

"Take it," he said.

He told me.

I opened the door and found myself in a living room furnished with great taste.

I looked at him; I was stunned.

"Your father adored you," he said.

"I guess."

I said, believing it might be true. At home, he wasn't usually very demonstrative. But when we went out just the two of us—and we did that often—his character changed, and he became the loving father I remembered.

I turned on all the lights I could find and walked around the house.

There were four huge rooms: one with a double bed and three with single beds. All had curtains and quilts and their own bathrooms and dressing rooms.

There was a fifth room with a desk and bookshelves filled with books in different languages.

At this point, my tears wouldn't stop flowing.

Fernando hugged me, and I hugged him back, leaning against his chest.

"Sweetheart, your father knew what he was doing."

He said this while kissing the top of my head.

At that moment, his cell phone rang, and he moved away to answer it.

"Yes, love. I'll come pick you up in a little while. I love you, too."

It must have been his wife or girlfriend.

He hung up immediately.

"Do you want to sleep in a hotel? I'll book you a suite somewhere."

"I don't know. The building is huge, and I don't know it. But if you have things to do, I can book a room for myself."

"No, darling, don't worry about me. I'm here to serve you."

You're going to have problems with your partner.

I'm telling you honestly.

He just smiled.

Then he dialed something on his cell phone, and I received a message with a code for the room I had booked.

"Thank you."