Page 6 of Keepsake

I nodded, that was true. It had been more than a decade since Logan was in Sofia’s life. And yet, Sofia wanted the kids to stay with Logan.

Sofia was sixteen years younger than me, a miracle baby Mamá called her. They didn’t have the agility to raise children anymore, not when Lachlan just turned three. This kind of dysfunction wasn’t good for children, but you try telling that to a Latino mother.

Familia comes above anything.

“We should give her a chance.”

“Whose side are you on?” Mamá challenged.

I sighed, pinching the bridge of my nose. “There are no sides. We just have to—”

“You don’t understand. You don’t know these children.”

I flinched, her words cutting right to the cruel reality. I was no better than Logan. Probably worse, since the children were part of my family and I knew nothing about them.

“Mi príncipe…”Mamá started as she realized the wound she just poked.

I shook my head, cutting her off and facing my father. “Papá, you know Logan isn’t a bad person.”

“She’s not a bad person,” he agreed.

“Geraldo!” Mamá huffed like he betrayed her.

“She did nothing wrong.”

“She did nothing wrong.” I went with that lukewarm sentiment. “Can we give her a chance? She wants this.”

“Why?” Mamá fired up. “She’s a big shot in the city. Why would she want the kids?”

I shrugged, if she wanted to talk about Logan, she’d have to talk to Logan. “We’ll honor what Sofia asked. At the very least, we tell the children.”

She bit her lip, her face twisted like she ate a sour lemon. I had to put the hammer down. We couldn’t hide this from the children.

“It’s the right thing to do.” Papá decided to cooperate. “They need to know.”

I wasn’t going to pressure them by saying Logan could go about this in the legal way. She had money to throw toward legal fees that we didn’t. That was going to push Mamá further away. It was clear she had a problem with how much money Logan had. There was nothing to hate about the girl, so I had to assume it was the last name attached to her.

Hart.

The Harts owned half of this town, we saw it in the complex buildings and their faces spread over gossip magazines. Maybe Mamá had a good reason for trying to keep the kids away from that life. Besides being insanely rich, I knew next to nothing about the Harts. How could we trust them?

Sofia knew enough. She knew about Logan, and she was their mother. I understood where my mother was coming from, but I was relentless. Even if it was the last thing I did, I had to honor Sofia’s wishes.

“Tita, can we have pizza rolls?” Vienna put her head on the door, her expectant smile bright.

Mamá switched to a motherly gaze. “Of course.”

We all smiled at the girl until she disappeared once again. Mamá stood up and opened the freezer.

“I don’t think I was ever allowed to have pizza rolls.” My eyebrows rose.

Mamá never let me have junk food, or food that looked like what the other kids were having. She would tell us, “They do not know what they are eating.” It was Mamá’s version of,“Father, forgive them, for they do not know what they are doing.”

“Their mother died,” Mamá whispered and turned to the freezer again, sniffling when she turned her back to me.

My forehead met the tips of my fingers and I massaged for a second as Mamá disappeared through the door. My father looked over his shoulder, watching her leave. “She needs time.”

I breathed in and out. “We all do. I just want to do what is right for the kids. What Sofia wanted.”

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