“Maybe we raised them giving them everything… except the chance to learn what it costs to earn it.”
That same day I called Ernesto to his office.
When he arrived carrying a thick folder under his arm, I looked at him seriously.
“I want to change my will.”
Ernesto raised an eyebrow.
“Are you sure?”
“More than ever.”
For years I had planned to leave everything to Diego and Graciela.
The house.
The savings.
The insurance policy.
Everything Lucía and I had built over forty years.
But that afternoon I signed new documents.
Most of our assets were assigned to a foundation that supported elderly people abandoned by their families.
Another portion was given to a hospital that treated stroke patients.
For Diego and Graciela…
I left exactly one dollar each.
“Legally this prevents them from contesting the will,” Ernesto explained as he put the papers away. “They won’t be able to say you forgot them.”
That night Lucía and I had dinner in silence on the terrace of Ernesto’s house.
The wind moved softly through the trees.
“Do you think they’ll ever change?” she asked.
I looked at her sadly.
“I hope so.”
Two weeks passed.
Our children finally managed to find us.
They arrived furious.
