Chapter 6
Sarah
The first thing I spotted was Hector’s car—his Mercedes which he usually drove—was parked in the driveway.
Perfect. Just perfect.
Gianna appeared from the kitchen when I entered, holding a tablet and looking far too cheerful for someone who’d just ruined my entire afternoon.
“You’re after my life.”
She blinked. “Good morning to you too.”
“Don’t good morning me. Why is he here?” I jerked my thumb toward Hector’s office. “You scheduled my session during his availability again. I specifically asked you to make sure he’d be at meetings or sacrificing small businesses or whatever it is he does with his time.”
“Actually,” Gianna said slowly, drawing out the word like she was savoring this, “I didn’t schedule anything. He rescheduled his investor meeting to be here.”
The words didn’t make sense. “What?”
“Mr. Irving’s office called to confirm. Hector moved it to next month.” She grinned. “So technically, you can’t blame me this time.”
Hector had rescheduled an investor meeting? To watch a therapy session he normally observed from his office anyway?
“Why would he do that?”
“Maybe he likes his daughter’s speech therapist?” Gianna said, eyes sparkling with mischief.
“That’s not funny.”
“Little bit funny.”
“Gianna.”
“Okay, okay.” She held up her hands. “But hear me out here—you are the only staff he’s shown this much interest in.”
“That’s because I work closely with Lily.
” I lowered my voice and glanced toward Hector’s office to make sure he couldn’t hear.
“Do you want to know what happened a few days ago?” I didn’t wait for her to respond, “I was working overtime in a restaurant and my manager was being rude. Hector walked in and bought the place, fired my boss, dragged me outside, and then lectured me about being reckless and setting bad examples for Lily. He made it very clear that the only reason he helped was to protect his investment in his daughter’s therapy.
I’m just the help who needs to stay in line. ”
Gianna’s smile faded slightly. “He said that?”
“Not in those exact words, but yes. He was very specific about how my behavior was unsustainable and I needed to stop destroying myself around his daughter.”
“Okay, but,” Gianna said, incredulous, “he did buy an entire restaurant because your boss grabbed you?”
“To protect Lily’s therapy, not to protect me.”
“Still seems like a pretty extreme reaction for someone who doesn’t care.”
The look I gave her should have communicated exactly how done I was with this conversation. “Did you hear anything I just said? The man rescheduled that meeting so he could supervise me directly and make sure I don’t corrupt his daughter with my terrible life choices.”
“Or,” Gianna said, breezing right past my very valid points, “maybe he doesn’t know how to show he cares without being all stiff and business-y about it. Some people are like that. They care but they’re terrible at expressing it.”
“You cannot be serious right now.”
“I’m just saying—”
“No. Stop saying. There’s nothing to say.” I adjusted my bag on my shoulder. “Just do me a favor and schedule better next time. Make absolutely sure he’s at a meeting or in another country or abducted by aliens. Anything that keeps him far away from these sessions.”
Gianna laughed and headed back toward the kitchen, leaving me alone with my frustration and the extremely awkward awareness that Hector was probably watching this entire conversation through his office monitor.
I took a breath, straightened my shoulders, and headed toward the therapy room where Lily was already waiting.
The second I walked in, my irritation evaporated. Lily sat on the floor surrounded by papers and crayons, but her math workbook was open in her lap. When she saw me, she held it up with both hands, pointing at the circled problems on the page.
“Let me see.” I settled down next to her.
She’d gotten most of them right. Actually, almost all of them are right. The tutor must have been working with her on multiplication this week.
“Lily, this is amazing.” I smiled. “You got so many correct. Look at this one, and this one. You’re really understanding this.”
She ducked her head, but I caught the small smile before she hid it. That smile was worth every awkward encounter with her father.
“I’m so proud of you.” Her eyes lifted to mine, big and dark and so much like Hector’s it was almost unsettling.
Focus on Lily, I told myself. Not on her controlling father. Just focus on this sweet kid who needed someone to care.
But my mind had other ideas. It kept spiraling back to the restaurant, to the news I’d heard through the grapevine.
Hector hadn’t just bought Aurelio’s—he’d fired most of the old staff and was apparently renovating the whole place.
Which meant Greg was gone, but so was everyone else I’d worked with.
So was that potential income I’d desperately needed.
Three months. That’s what the loan sharks had given me. They’d show up every month for installment payments, each visit a reminder that Colin’s safety hung in the balance.
My fingers trembled slightly as I reached for a crayon. I pressed them flat against my thigh until they stopped.
Maybe I could ask Hector for an advance. Like a year’s salary up front, or even just six months. That would give me something to work with, to show the loan sharks I was serious about paying.
Asking him for money made my stomach twist, especially after the restaurant fight, but what choice did I have? I couldn’t exactly explain why I needed it without revealing the whole mess with my father’s debts, and that was a level of vulnerability I absolutely was not ready for.
Lily tugged on my sleeve, pulling me back to the present.
She’d set aside her math book and pulled out her sketchpad. When I looked down at the page, my chest tightened.
Another ballerina.
This one was more detailed than the others I’d seen. The dancer’s arms stretched upward in a perfect arc, one leg extended in an arabesque.
“This is beautiful. You’re really talented, you know that?”
Lily stared at the drawing, her small fingers tracing the dancer’s outline.
“Do you like ballet?”
She nodded without looking up.
“Have you ever taken ballet classes?”
Another nod, smaller this time.
I waited, giving her space to say more if she wanted. Lily was like a bird sometimes—easily startled by too many questions or too much attention. You had to let her come to you.
She set down the gold crayon and picked up the purple one. Added small flowers around the dancer’s feet, quick strokes that somehow looked exactly like the flowers were meant to look.
Then she whispered, so quiet I almost missed it, “Dance.”
Everything stopped. One word. The first word Lily had spoken in three weeks.
“You want to dance?”
Lily looked up at me and nodded. Then she reached out with one small hand and touched my sleeve, her eyes locked on mine like she was trying to tell me something important.
“Okay. Okay, sweetheart. I hear you.”
She didn’t say anything else, just went back to her drawing, but something in her posture had relaxed. Like she’d been holding her breath and could finally exhale.
After the session ended and I’d said goodbye to Lily, I found Mrs. Pearson in the kitchen.
Mrs. Pearson’s expression softened in a way I’d rarely seen. “Oh yes. Before the accident. Her mother used to take her, Lily loved it. She’d practice in the living room for hours, showing off everything she’d learned.”
“What happened?”
“Mr. Valdez withdrew her from the studio after Mrs. Valdez died.” Mrs. Pearson’s voice was impartial. “He said it was too much for Lily to handle.”
“But did Lily say she didn’t want to go?”
“Lily wasn’t speaking by then, dear.”
A spark of determination lit in my chest. Had Hector had made that decision without ever asking what his daughter wanted.
I saw him later that afternoon as he was heading from his office, jacket slung over one arm, looking like he was off to whatever mysterious business-tycoon activities filled his days.
“Mr. Valdez?”
He stopped and turned. “Ms. Tinsley. Is there a problem?”
His tone wasn’t exactly welcoming. In fact, it was the verbal equivalent of a closed door with a Do Not Disturb sign.
Not the best time to bring up ballet. Maybe I should wait until he was in a better mood—assuming he had moods other than cold and colder.
“No problem,” I said. “Just wanted to check in about Lily’s progress.”
“We can discuss it during the next session.”
Translation: go away. So I went away.
But I didn’t forget. For the next three days, I thought about Lily’s whispered word and the way she’d touched my sleeve.
The way she’d drawn those ballerinas over and over, each one more detailed than the last. The way her shoulders had loosened after she said it, like she’d finally let a piece of herself slip out into the world again.
So when the next session rolled around, I went straight to Hector’s office and knocked before I could talk myself out of it.
“Come in.”
He was at his desk, reading something on his computer. He didn't even look up when I entered.
“I need to talk to you about Lily.”
“Is she alright?” Now he looked up, the concern immediate and sharp in his eyes—the kind that made it painfully clear that Lily was the only thing capable of cracking his armor.
“She’s fine. She spoke during our last session.”
Hector’s whole body went still. “What did she say?”
“Dance. She said ‘dance.’” I moved closer to his desk. “And I think we should let her take ballet classes again.”
The concern vanished, replaced by that cold mask he wore so well. “No.”
“Just like that? No?”
He turned back to his computer. “Was there anything else?”
“Yes, actually. I’d like to know why.”
“Because I’m her father and I said no.”
“That’s not a reason, you are just being autocratic.”
His eyes cut to me. “Autocratic?” The corners of his lips curved, but nothing about his eyes were smiling.