PART 3
For a few moments, everyone remained motionless.
Alba broke the silence first.
“Really?”
Javier surveyed the garden.
All 27 children seemed to be awaiting his decision, as if this place were a kingdom where one word from him could bring their happiness to an end.
“Really.”
Joy immediately spread across his daughter’s face.
“Then you have to play.”
“That wasn’t part of the deal.”
“It is now.”
Alba settled a lopsided cardboard crown onto his head.
A handful of children burst into laughter.
Javier struggled to remember the last occasion when people had laughed at him without leaving him suspicious that they expected something in exchange.
From the terrace, Elvira continued watching.
“Javier, I need to speak with you.”
“Later, Mom.”
“This is irresponsible.”
“Later.”
That one word startled her more than a lengthy confrontation ever could.
For nearly 1 hour, Javier obeyed the games Alba invented. He lost a competition that involved holding a ball between his knees. He distributed plates to the children. By the end, a glittering sticker decorated his forehead, and his expensive shoes were stained with mud, despite costing more than some of those households earned in an entire month.
For once, none of it mattered to him.
Eventually, his attention shifted toward Hugo.
The child whose circumstances were described in the folder sat beside a table, carefully keeping 2 servings of Spanish omelet and a piece of birthday cake.
Javier walked over.
“Aren’t you hungry?”
Hugo tightened his grip around the napkin.
“Yes.”
“Then you can eat more. There’s plenty.”
The child turned his gaze toward Inés.
She lowered herself beside him.
“Hugo lives with his mother and his 2 younger siblings.”
The situation suddenly became clear to Javier.
“Do you want to take some home?”
Hugo answered with a nod.
Javier was ready to instruct the kitchen employees to fill several takeaway boxes when Inés lightly rested a hand on his arm.
“Don’t do it as though you’re giving them leftovers.”
He knitted his brows.
“What difference does it make?”
“A big one.”
Inés gathered several of the children around her.
“We have far too much food left. We need volunteers to help us take some boxes home so it doesn’t end up in the trash.”
Almost immediately, hands rose into the air.
Hugo lifted his as well.
Only then did Javier grasp what Inés was trying to show him.
Someone could receive assistance and still be made to feel inferior by the way it was offered.
Throughout his life, Javier had approached every difficulty from a position of authority.
Writing checks.
Issuing instructions.
Making charitable contributions.
Rarely had he stopped to consider the emotions of the people accepting his generosity.
As the afternoon faded, the children’s families began arriving.
One mother embraced Inés, expressing her gratitude because her son had finally experienced blowing out candles on a birthday cake for the very first time.
A father shared that he had been unemployed for 7 months and couldn’t afford a birthday celebration for his daughter.
Another woman insisted that she help clean the tables.
Not one person requested money.
Nobody took pictures of the villa.
Nobody questioned Javier about his income.
By the time the final visitors departed, discarded paper cups, decorations, and cake crumbs covered the garden.
Alba had grown tired.
She lowered herself onto a step beside her father.
“Are you going to fire Inés?”
Javier glanced across the grass at Inés, who was gathering the remaining dishes.
“I don’t know.”
Alba dropped her gaze.
“She said she should have asked you.”
“And she should have.”
“But she wasn’t trying to steal anything.”
Javier faced his daughter.
“Who said anything about stealing?”
Alba’s eyes moved toward the terrace.
Elvira had already gone.
“Grandma says some people get close to us because we have money.”
An uneasy feeling immediately settled over Javier.
His mother had repeated that warning for many years.
Following Irene’s death, Elvira had gradually assumed a central emotional role within the household. She closely monitored the caregivers, interfered with decisions about Alba’s education, and viewed anyone who formed a close relationship with the girl with suspicion.
Javier had permitted it because he had mistaken controlling everything for keeping everyone safe.
“Do you think Inés is with you because of money?”
Alba shook her head decisively.
“When I had a fever, she sat beside me until I fell asleep.”
“She’s paid to take care of you.”
“But she’s not paid to learn Mommy’s song.”
Javier went still.
“What song?”
Alba softly hummed a familiar tune.
Recognition came to Javier at once.
Irene had often sung that melody while making breakfast.
An old recording from their kitchen captured the song in its entirety.
Javier had avoided watching that video for 3 years.
“How does Inés know that song?”
“I wanted to hear Mommy’s voice. You always say another day. Inés helped me look through the old videos.”
Alba’s words carried no trace of blame.
Somehow, that made them even more painful.
Javier had hidden away hundreds of videos and photographs of Irene because seeing them was more than he could bear.
He had never understood that, in doing so, he was also shutting his daughter away from some of her most precious memories.
Later that evening, once Alba was asleep, Javier encountered Inés in the kitchen.
Her belongings were already packed.
“Are you leaving?”
“I thought it would be better.”
“I haven’t fired you.”
“Not yet.”
Javier rested his hands against the countertop.
“What happened today cannot happen again this way.”
“I know.”
“You cannot invite 27 minors into a private home without my permission.”
“I know.”
“And I need to know in advance about any activity involving Alba.”
“Agreed.”
Inés simply nodded, offering no excuses for her actions.
Javier watched her carefully.
“But I want to ask you something else.”
She waited for him to continue.
“Why does Alba think I’m always going to say no?”
Several quiet seconds passed before Inés replied.
“Because most of the time, you don’t actually say no.”
“Then I don’t understand.”
“You say, ‘We’ll see.'”
Javier’s forehead creased.
“That doesn’t mean no.”
“Maybe not to an adult.”
Inés lowered her bag onto a chair.
“But to Alba, it means another meeting will probably come up.”
Javier’s thoughts returned to the Christmas show where he had appeared only as the chairs were being stacked away.
He remembered canceling a visit to the zoo on the very morning they were meant to leave.
And he remembered Alba’s last birthday.
He had paid for an extravagant venue complete with entertainers, activities, and a towering 4-tier cake.
But an investor in London had unexpectedly requested a video meeting, causing Javier to arrive 47 minutes late.
That evening, Alba had asked him:
“Why does everyone say it was my best birthday ever when you were barely there?”
At the time, Javier had been unable to find an answer.
Even now, he couldn’t.
The next morning, Inés reported to work believing she would soon be dismissed.
Javier invited her into his office.
Elvira was waiting inside.
“I’m glad we’re finally going to settle this,” she said.
On Javier’s desk lay 2 folders.
He began the discussion.
“Inés broke an important rule.”
Elvira gave an approving nod.
“Exactly.”
“And she will not organize anything like that again without permission.”
“Of course.”
Javier opened one of the folders.
“But she’s not fired.”
Elvira stared at him in disbelief.
Inés appeared equally stunned.
“I’ve updated her contract.”
He pushed a collection of documents toward her.
The revised agreement provided a higher salary, extra leave, and a dedicated monthly allowance for activities involving Alba.
It also introduced clear procedures covering visitors, trips outside the property, and transport arrangements.
Inés examined the pages without speaking.
“You don’t need to pay me more because of yesterday.”
“I’m not paying you more because of yesterday.”
Javier met her gaze.
“I’m paying you more because for months I’ve been asking you to take on responsibilities that weren’t included in your contract.”
Elvira lightly struck the surface of the desk.
“Javier, you’re rewarding disobedience.”
“I’m separating 2 different issues.”
He then reached for the other folder.
Inside was an early proposal for a community support program.
The initiative had not yet received an official name.
Its purpose was to work alongside accredited organizations throughout Madrid, financing shared birthday parties, educational outings, school materials, and family-oriented activities.
Images of participating children would never be used in advertising for Javier’s business.
There would be no oversized corporate branding or online posts designed to show off who had financed the celebrations.
“I want Inés to advise the project.”
Inés raised her head.
“I don’t know how to run a foundation.”
“I know how to run companies, and yesterday I didn’t even know my daughter was afraid of thunderstorms.”
Elvira rose from her chair.
“This is absurd.”
Javier turned toward his mother.
“Mom, Inés isn’t going to replace Irene.”
“That’s what you say now.”
“No. That’s what you’ve been afraid of from the beginning.”
Elvira stiffened.
“I’m protecting my granddaughter.”
“Sometimes you’re teaching her to distrust anyone who doesn’t belong to our world.”
The discussion ended on bitter terms.
Elvira stormed out.
She didn’t telephone for several days afterward.
Meanwhile, Javier learned that launching a charitable initiative was far simpler than transforming himself into the parent Alba deserved.
He reserved 3 afternoons each week exclusively for her.
During the first week, he kept every commitment.
In the second, he turned down a dinner invitation from a client.
By the third week, an urgent problem at work delayed him, and he reached home 1 hour later than promised.
Alba was disappointed.
Previously, Javier would have compensated with a gift the following morning.
This time, he chose a different response.
“I promised I’d be here, and I wasn’t.”
Alba gazed up at him.
“You always say work is important.”
“It was.”
“Then you didn’t do anything wrong.”
Her response struck him with unexpected force.
His little girl had already become accustomed to defending his absence.
“Yes, I did something wrong. I made you a promise, and I didn’t keep it.”
He offered no present.
He arranged no extravagant excursion to erase his mistake.
He simply apologized.
And when he next promised to share dinner with her, he switched his phone off.
4 months later, the initiative officially launched under a name Alba herself had selected:
“A Day for You.”
Its first organized gathering was held at a community center in Carabanchel.
18 children attended.
Javier initially wanted to purchase hundreds of gifts.
Inés insisted on setting boundaries.
“This isn’t about showing how much money you can spend.”
Alba shared her opinion.
“Everyone should get something they actually like.”
They brought out the blue folder.
The original list of 27 children had become the foundation for how the new program operated.
Instead of documenting only their needs, they also began noting their individual interests.
Their hopes.
Their favorite activities.
One girl dreamed of learning to skate.
A boy had a fascination with trains.
A teenage girl hoped to tour a veterinary school.
For Javier, the experience reshaped his entire understanding of generosity.
The people he was helping were no longer statistics.
Several months afterward, Elvira unexpectedly arrived at an activity carrying 4 boxes packed with children’s books.
“I only came to drop these off.”
Alba rushed forward and embraced her grandmother.
No one pressed Elvira to explain herself.
She remained there for 3 hours.
Before leaving, she found herself reading aloud with 6 children gathered around her.
She never directly acknowledged that her judgment of Inés had been unfair.
However, she no longer referred to her as “the nanny,” choosing instead to call her by name.
That seemingly minor adjustment was enough.
Nearly 1 year after the unexpected garden celebration, “A Day for You” arranged a gathering attended by more than 100 children and their relatives.
Volunteers, social workers, event coordinators, and security staff were all present.
The event bore little resemblance to the spontaneous party once held at the villa.
Yet the same purpose remained at its heart.
Alba distributed homemade cardboard crowns.
Inés oversaw a table overflowing with birthday cakes.
Javier carried supply boxes, his usual tie nowhere in sight.
A local reporter attending the event approached him with a question:
“What inspired you to create all of this?”
Javier turned to look at Alba.
He remembered the countless expensive things he had given her.
Then his thoughts returned to a question that required almost no money to answer, yet had proven so difficult for him:
“Are you having dinner with me tonight?”
“For far too long, I confused giving things with being present,” he replied.
Later that afternoon, once most guests had departed, Alba discovered the familiar blue folder tucked inside a box.
The edges had become worn with use.
“Look, Daddy.”
Javier took a seat next to her.
Together, they reviewed the first 27 names.
Several of those children continued participating in the initiative.
Others had moved on.
Hugo, who had once quietly saved food to share with his siblings, now played for a youth soccer team affiliated with a local community organization.
Javier smiled at the memory.
“Do you remember the day of the party?”
“Yes.”
“I almost threw Inés out.”
Alba opened her eyes wide.
“Really?”
“For a few minutes.”
“That would have been terrible.”
Javier chuckled.
“Probably.”
Alba flipped through the remaining sheets.
On the final page, she rediscovered the sentence she had written long ago.
“Daddy says having lots of money helps solve problems. Inés says we first need to look at the person standing in front of us.”
Javier went over the words twice.
“Do you still believe that?”
Alba gave a small shrug.
“Now you look at people too.”
Those 5 simple words touched him more profoundly than any professional honor he had ever received.
That evening, a storm rolled in.
After they arrived home, Alba stood in the entrance to his office with a blanket in her arms.
There had been a time when Javier would immediately have called for Inés.
Now, he shut his laptop.
“Mommy’s song?”
Alba nodded her agreement.
Javier opened the old recording and pressed play.
For the first time in 4 years, he let the sound of Irene’s voice echo through the room.
Afterward, he attempted to join in with the melody.
He sang one of the lines incorrectly.
Alba corrected the mistake.
Both of them laughed.
Passing through the corridor, Inés heard their laughter and continued on her way.
She chose not to interrupt.
Taking anyone’s place had never been her intention.
In fact, she had accomplished the very opposite.
She had guided a father and his daughter toward a piece of their family history that sorrow had kept hidden from them.
Sometime afterward, Javier came across the cardboard crown from that original garden party while in the library.
It had been flattened, and his name was scrawled across it with a marker.
For a moment, he considered discarding it.
Instead, he carefully tucked it into the blue folder.
His company office displayed trophies, pictures taken with investors, and honors recognizing transactions worth millions of euros.
Nevertheless, that battered crown became the possession he valued looking at most.
It took him back to the afternoon when he returned home ready to dismiss a woman for disregarding his household rules.
Only to realize that he himself had been neglecting a promise far more important for years.
He had assured Irene that their daughter would never have to experience growing up alone.
But over time, he had gradually substituted financial comfort for his own presence.
Inés had not repaired that failure on his behalf.
Nor had the 27 children.
All they had done was allow him to see himself clearly.
What happened afterward depended on Javier.
From that point forward, there were still challenging days when an important appointment filled his calendar and Alba came asking whether he would join her for dinner.
He never became a flawless parent.
But he abandoned his habit of immediately responding:
“We’ll see.”
He finally understood that some of the deepest, most silent hurts a child carries are not caused by being told “no.”
They come from waiting again and again for a “yes” that never comes.
Everything had started on that Thursday when Javier opened the garden doors, convinced he was about to uncover an act of betrayal.
What awaited him instead were 27 children, a homemade birthday cake, a blue folder, and a daughter who had spent far too much time trying to show him a truth no financial statement could calculate:
An enormous house can still feel empty when nobody has time to stay.
And a simple table, surrounded by people who truly see one another, can become the richest place in the world.
