"Katy goes to Rosa Blanca and holds her in her arms, comforting the girl. In Spanish, she says to Rosa Blanca: 'You and I were out shopping together. We found them like this when we got back.' Katy picks up the telephone to call the police.
"As the widow, Rosa Blanca will inherit the money now, and Katy knows Rosa Blanca will take care of her for the rest of her life."
The man stopped talking for a few moments, then looked at me and asked, "What do you think? Is that a movie?"
"It certainly could be," I said. "Where did you hear this story?"
"From my mother."
"Who told it to her?"
"Nobody. My mother is Rosa Blanca. She was pregnant when my father died."
"Your mother killed your father?"
"No, Ricky killed him. My father was Carlos."
I hesitated before asking the next question.
"Did Rosa Blanca tell you that Carlos, not Ricky, was your father?"
"I grew up thinking that I was Ricky's son, but Katy told me the truth just before she died."
"Does Rosa Blanca know that you know who your real father was?"
"No, Katy made me promise not to tell her."
Rosa Blanca's son looked out a porthole window at the clouds.
"If you make it into a movie," he said, "you can leave that part out, end it where Katy picks up the telephone to call the cops. That's a better ending, anyway, don't you think?"
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