He could lie.
You could say that the sound came from the street, apologize, promise to keep quiet and protect your apartment.
Or I could open the door and let the consequences come in with Don Ernesto’s shoes.
Lupita didn’t tell her what she had to do.
That silence robbery more anger.
Miguel opened the door only halfway.
Don Ernesto stood there in his undershirt, one hand gripping his keys, his eyes looking already past Miguel’s shoulder.
“I know it,” I said. “You brought in a dog in here.”
“It’s temporary,” Miguel said. “She was on the highway. Her puppies are sick.”
“My building is not
to shelter.”
“I know.”
“You know everything, Miguel, but you still do what brings trouble to my door.”
Behind him, Canela given another low growl, and Don Ernesto’s expression immediateened with disgust.
“Out,” I said. “Tonight.”
Lupita rose slowly, still holding the pale puppy against her chest.
