I never imagined that I would have to write something like that. But sometimes, when a family crosses certain boundaries, the story needs to be told.
My parents sold my daughter Lucia’s antique cello, an instrument that had belonged to my grandmother Doña Elena, for $87,000. They didn’t do it out of necessity. It was not an emergency. They used that money to build a swimming pool for my sister Carla’s children.
The day everything started to smell badI knew before I entered the house. There are things that are perceived without seeing them: fresh paint, sawdust, that chemical smell that betrays money spent without explanation.
Lucía got out of the car with her backpack and her sheet music folder. I was excited. The cello lived in my grandmother’s old music room, a room cared for in detail, with a humidifier and shelves full of old sheet music.
