Mrs. Lola, 82, lived with her youngest son, Juan, and his wife, Ana.
Recently, she had been forgetting things and repeating the same question multiple times. Juan and Ana whispered behind her back:
— “All that’s missing is her signing the house transfer, then we can send her away.” — “She’s already confused, easy to trick, nothing to worry about…”
One afternoon, they pretended to escort her to the notary’s office to sign a “health certificate,” but in reality, it was a paper transferring the house, worth over 4 million pesos, into her son’s name.
She signed. Without hesitation. That very night, they told her bluntly:
— “Mom, go stay elsewhere for a while. We want to renovate the house to look more presentable!”
She lowered her head in silence.
Her husband, Don Pedro, too furious to speak, took her away at night to live with a faraway nephew in the countryside.
But just 48 hours later, as the family enjoyed “cleaning” their new property, a pickup truck loudly stopped outside the gate.
Doña Lola stepped down in her cotton blouse and shawl, carrying a tin of foul sauce that reeked terribly, and calmly said:
— “You thought I was senile, but I only acted forgetful… and then…”
— “…and then I recorded all your plotting, including the fraudulent deed you tricked me into signing. I submitted everything to the land registry and the police. These last 48 hours, I wasn’t away; I was with a lawyer preparing to annul the contract and restore the house to my name. And this…”
Doña Lola raised the can and lifted the lid. A sharp odor filled the rooms, making everyone cover their noses.
— “This can is a gift… for you. It’s sauce I let ferment for two years; whenever someone misbehaves, townspeople know it. I planned to discard it, but instead, I’ll leave it here, to remind you that a tainted reputation is just like this stench; no amount of wealth can wash it clean.”
Don Pedro entered behind her, leaning on his cane. In a steady voice, he declared:
— “Your parents do not need your riches, but don’t ever think greed can deceive the old. This house is your mother’s; if you want to keep it, you’ll have to cross my de:ad body first.”
Juan and Ana’s faces drained pale, trembling.
— “Mom… mom… we just… only wanted to manage it…”
Doña Lola smiled faintly, her eyes glowing with a strength rare for an 82-year-old.
— “Manage it? Let’s see if the police, neighbors, and relatives believe that. I may be old, but not foolish. Children who betray their parents will be followed by this stench all their lives; no matter how much they try to scrub it away, it will cling forever.”
The whole neighborhood gathered outside, murmuring. Juan and Ana could only bow their heads as the stink of the rotting sauce spread through the home, like a curse impossible to erase.
