After the funeral, Solana wanted to stay with me.
—You shouldn’t be alone.
—I’m not alone —I told him—. I’m awake.
I went straight to the apartment that Joaquín had left me. Verónica and Rubén had lived there for free for years. I opened it with my key and started packing. Clothes, shoes, dishes, photos, cheap decorations, documents, everything. I didn’t break anything. I did not scream. I was orderly, exact, cold. I hired a move and paid extra to have everything taken to my parents’ house. I used the emergency key that they themselves had given me and asked them to leave the boxes in the middle of the room, one on top of the other, like the altar of their impudence.
Then I called a locksmith.
—Do you want to change just the sheet metal?
—Everything —I said—. I want no old keys to come back into use.
When I finished, I went home, opened my computer and canceled every payment I made for them: my parents’ car insurance, medical supplement, supermarket card, Verónica’s cell phone, monthly payment for Rubén’s car, gym, services, small aids which totaled almost $3,000 a month. As I pressed “cancel”, I remembered every time I gave them money believing it was love.
