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If I were you, I’d be worried too, but I swear on my mother’s memory that I just want to see your dad well. Alberto studied Manu’s sincere face, but his paranoia was stronger than his capacity for empathy. Mr. Manuel, may I ask you a direct question? What do you gain by helping my dad? I gain the clear conscience of having repaid a debt of gratitude. Just that, just that. Excuse me, but I find it very hard to believe. Manu sighed and looked at Rodrigo on the bed.
Her father taught me that in life there are two things no one can take away from us: dignity and good memories. He gave me both. Daniela felt a pang of guilt at her brother’s coldness. Mr. Manuel, could you tell us more about the projects you worked on together? Of course, miss. Her father had revolutionary ideas for his time. He wanted to create a construction model that was fair for both buyers and workers. How so? He proposed a system where workers would receive a small share of the profits from each project.
He said that those who build also deserve to prosper. Alberto snorted with distrust, but Daniela was fascinated. That was implemented in three small projects. Yes. And it worked very well. The workers were more dedicated, quality improved, deadlines were met, but then other business owners began to pressure her father, saying he was ruining the market, that he gave in to the pressure. Manu hesitated, clearly reluctant to criticize Rodrigo. He was just starting to marry his mother. He wanted to provide a good life for the family he planned to have.
He thought he needed to be more traditional in business. Daniela understood. Her mother, Patricia, came from a traditional family and had specific expectations about the standard of living she expected. My mother knew about my father’s ideas. Her mother is a wonderful woman, but she and her father came from very different worlds. He wanted to impress her, to show her that he could give her everything she deserved. At that moment, as if responding to a cue, Patricia Morales Fernández entered the room.
At 62, she was still an elegant woman, always perfectly dressed and made up, even for hospital visits. “Dear Daniela, how is your dad today?” she asked, completely ignoring Manu. “Mom, I want you to meet Mr. Manuel. He knew my dad many years ago and is helping in his recovery.” Patricia looked at Manu with the same expression she would use when finding a piece of furniture out of place. “Oh, yes. The nurse told me about a special visitor.” The way she said “special visitor” made it clear she didn’t approve of the situation.
“Ma’am, nice to meet you,” Manu said, respectfully removing his cap. Patricia just nodded, maintaining her aristocratic posture. “Daniela, may we speak in private?” Mother and daughter walked out into the hallway, leaving Alberto, Manu, and Dr. Velázquez in the room. “Daniela, what’s this story about a bricklayer visiting your father?” “Mom, Mr. Manuel knew Dad when he was just starting out. They were partners. Partners.” Patricia gave a forced laugh. “My dear, your father never had bricklayer partners.”
You must be confusing something. I’m not confusing anything. Mr. Manuel has photos and detailed stories, and most importantly, Dad is reacting to his presence. Patricia was silent for a few moments, processing the information. Even if that were true, it seems inappropriate to have those kinds of people frequenting the hospital where your father is hospitalized. What kind of people, Mom? Oh, Daniela, you know very well what I’m talking about. Ordinary people have their place in society, but it’s not next to a family like ours.
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