Rodrigo didn't stop. As he passed through the foyer, he grabbed an old, threadbare jacket hanging on the guest coat rack—the only piece of Mercedes's clothing that wasn't in the maid's quarters—and threw it in her face. "There's your rag! Get out!"
She opened the solid wood front door. The icy wind and rain rushed in, soaking the immaculate floor. "Rodrigo, no!" Carolina shouted from behind, but she stood frozen in the middle of the room, paralyzed by cowardice.
Mercedes clung to the doorframe with her arthritis-deformed fingers. “For God’s sake… I have heart problems… if you leave me outside, you’ll kill me…” Rodrigo leaned in until his minty breath hit the old woman’s face. His gaze was that of the devil himself. “You’d be doing me a favor if you died. Go back to your slum. You stink here.”
With a final, brutal, and merciless shove, he pulled her out. Mercedes flew a few inches before landing heavily on the washed concrete sidewalk. Her knees hit the ground with a sharp crack that made her gasp. The pain was sharp, immediate, blinding.
The door slammed shut with a bang that echoed like a gunshot. Click. Click. The sound of the security bolts clicking was the final verdict.
"Carolina! Daughter!" Mercedes cried, pounding the wood with her weak fists. "Don't leave me, my little girl!" No one answered. Only the roar of the rain and the thunder that shook the gray sky could be heard.
Mercedes lay there on the ground, the icy water soaking her gray dress in seconds. Her tears mingled with the rain. She hugged herself, trembling uncontrollably. She tried to stand, but her knees gave way. "My God... why?" she sobbed to the heavens. "I worked my whole life... I cleaned floors until I bled so she could get a degree... I never hurt anyone... Why are you punishing me like this?"
