She hadn't washed it. Just hung it back up.
That night, Eliana sat at the vanity in the master bedroom and helped herself to my skincare.
She twisted open the jar of cream, scooped out a huge glob, and smeared it across her face.
Then she picked up one of my lipsticks, twisted it up, looked at it for a moment, and set it back down.
On the morning of the fourth day, the whole family packed up and left the villa.
Eliana took whatever food was left in the fridge. Jim walked out of the study carrying a boxed tea set of mine that had never been opened.
Gabriel was the last to leave.
He stood in the living room for a while, picked up the bouquet on the coffee table that had already wilted, looked at it, and put it back down.
The door closed. The villa went quiet.
The footage stopped there.
I dragged the progress bar back and replayed the living room conversation one more time.
Watching it again, Gabriel's expression still hadn't changed.
No nod. No shake of the head. No frown. Nothing beyond silence.
Like a bystander. A spectator.
But he was the center of all of it.
If he hadn't given his silent approval, none of them could have gotten through the door.
He was the one who gave them the door code.
I stared at my phone screen, my fingers slowly tightening around it.
It wasn't about a car. It wasn't about a few dresses.
It was because all of this had been premeditated, organized, and divided up like assigned tasks.
Jim was in charge of allocating rooms. Eliana handled supplies and daily necessities. Christian was the one who carried things out and moved them. Gabriel's job was to say nothing and let it happen.
And what was my role?
I earned the money. I bought the cars. I paid the mortgage. I provided everything they needed.
Oh, and one more thing.
My job was to marry into the family.
And then become a nameless accessory, going from "Patsy Simmons" to "one of the Chavez family."
A daughter-in-law with no property rights and no voice.
I sat on the couch, unplugged the backup hard drive from my laptop, and dropped it into my bag.
I checked the backup files one more time to make sure everything was intact.
Then I called my best friend. "Moira, I need a favor."
A little after seven that evening, the door opened.
Gabriel had unlocked it.
Jim walked in without taking off his shoes, his leather soles hitting the hardwood floor with every step.
Eliana came in carrying a bag of fruit, tossed it onto the coffee table without a second glance.
Christian was the last one through the door, hands in his pockets, looking around, letting out a low whistle.
The three of them sat down in the living room.
Gabriel poured them water like he owned the place, then sat down across from me.
Jim spoke first.
"Patsy, we came here today to straighten this whole thing out."
He crossed his legs, lit a cigarette, took a drag. Smoke curled through the living room.
"That post you put on social media made this entire family look bad."
"Christian's young. He doesn't always think things through. But you're his sister-in-law. You shouldn't be stooping to his level."
"Family should put harmony first."
Eliana jumped in. "Exactly. Patsy, what were you thinking, calling the police?"
"People are going to think we've got thieves in the family."
"Christian is your brother-in-law. What good does it do you to ruin his reputation?"
"And that car of yours, it was just sitting in the garage collecting dust. Christian took it for a spin. It's not like he put a scratch on it."
"You had to blow it up into this whole ordeal? You're just giving people something to laugh about."
Christian sat in the armchair, one leg crossed over the other, bouncing it lazily.
"Sis, if you're worried about the gas money, just say so."
"Next time I take the car out, I'll fill the tank before I bring it back. We're talking, what, a hundred bucks?"
"Was that really worth threatening to call the cops on social media? My girlfriend saw it and lost it. She almost broke up with me. Said having a thief in the family was too embarrassing."
