Chapter 10 - The Voice on the Tape
Dina arranged for a digital copy of the cassette through a preservation service. The original remained bagged and labeled. She also referred Lila to a criminal defense attorney, Mara Chen, who agreed to sit with the family as they listened and discuss whether the recording should be shared with investigators.
At Nora's table, a portable speaker crackled. There was a clink of dishes, a burst of street noise, and then Elena's unmistakable voice, younger and less guarded than Lila remembered.
“Teresa, I told him the families needed more time.”
A woman replied, “You told your father. Did you tell Nico not to come back?”
“I didn't know he'd use the list to find people.”
“Knowing comes after harm, sweetheart. What matters now is what you do.”
The recording went quiet for several seconds. Then Elena said, “I'll give the names to whoever will listen. Even if my father never forgives me.”
Lila could no longer breathe normally. The tape ended before any discussion of the fire; its label placed it weeks earlier. It proved an argument and Elena's knowledge of intimidation, not who had caused a death.
Owen listened again to the sentence about what mattered after harm.
“She sounds like you,” he said.
“No,” Lila whispered. “I sound like her.”
They were still sitting there when Ray called from the diner. Curtis had instructed him to alter a time sheet so it appeared Tasha had agreed to cash advances. Ray refused. Curtis sent him home, saying he could pick up his last check on Monday.
“I don't know what to do,” Ray admitted. “My wife's physical therapy bills are already late.”
Lila wanted to upload everything publicly that minute. She pictured the video of Sal in the diner, the photos of payroll records, and the way Curtis looked when he learned the world could see him.
Instead she called Dina.
Dina told her to save Ray's account in his own words and not to promise protection she couldn't provide. A report could be prepared. The workers could discuss a collective claim if they chose. None of it would happen quickly.
Lila put the phone down and saw how hard restraint could be when somebody you loved was paying for it.
That evening Sal arrived outside Nora's building with a paper bag. Inside was a repaired tape player, not a check. Nora allowed him as far as the entryway.
“I heard you found Elena's voice,” he said.
May you like
Lila held the door half-open. “She was braver than either of us.”
Sal stared past her at the warm apartment where his daughter's children lived without him. “I know,” he said.
