181 Days of Madeline Jesty

Chapter 59: Noblesse Oblige

Because I wanted to know the truth personally and leave no detail behind, I asked Mickey if I could tag along one of these days instead. She agreed, of course, but it took Mickey until Thursday before she could set me up with a casual meeting with her mother because Mrs. Angelita, whom I now call Mrs. Angie, got sick of flu. I told Mickey not to worry about it. I just fervently prayed that Amielle was safe and free from Cornelia's torture. That is, if my suspicions were true.

"What about the Ortiz Restaurant?" Mrs. Angie asked as soon as I settled in their dining area. A thick blanket was wrapped around her shoulders; she was probably recuperating from her flu. "That was a long time ago. I was a teenager then," she added as she offered a piece of bread and a glass of water, together with a mug of her own tea.

"Like, how old?"

"Fourteen?"

I stared at her with my mouth agape. "Fourteen? Was that legal?"

"No, of course," Mrs. Angie said, laughing. "During our time, it was easy to fake documents. I was poor, my dear child. Well, still am."

"Ma," Mickey interrupted before sitting with us. "You shouldn't say things like that."

Mrs. Angie waved her hand, dismissing her daughter's remarks, and continued, "The legal working age was fifteen, but I had to find work to eat. My late older brother said—may his soul rest in peace—and I decided we'd find a job to feed our younger siblings. I could pass as fifteen, maybe even eighteen, because I looked old from picking up useful junk during the day. Thanks to my everyday sun exposure that caused my skin to age."

I could not imagine what she went through during her teenage years, and here she was, still being a kind mother to Mickey. "You got accepted? They didn't confirm your age?"

Mrs. Angie nodded. "I think the madam knew, but she allowed me to work because I said I needed money to feed my siblings. Too bad they died early."

Mickey and I looked at each other. "The owners of the restaurant died?"

"A storm hit their ship, and unfortunately, it sank and killed hundreds of passengers. It's in the newspapers. Their bodies were found."

"That's so unfortunate . . . and sad," Mickey commented, frowning and then sighing. "Was this the reason the restaurant closed?"

Mrs. Angie shook her head. "Actually, that restaurant was only a side business. The Ortiz family was well known because of their wine, but when the couple died, a new wine label dominated the market. Rumors said that their children sold their wine business and only retained the restaurant. But this retained as a rumor because no news could confirm if it were true. Either they sold it, or their children let the wine business die on its own. The couple had two daughters, I believe . . ."

Two daughters. Amelia and Cornelia Ortiz.

"But I only knew Lady Amelia. She's the younger one between the two," Mrs. Angie quickly followed. Mickey and I looked at each other. "Does this name ring a bell?"

I nodded. "She's part of the restaurant's history, but there's little information about her."

"Of course, of course. Lady Amelia was soft-spoken. A very private person, kept her circle small. When she refused to be interviewed about the death of her parents and their rumored wine-business closure, the media lost interest in them."

"Oh, so the restaurant continued to operate and thrive?"

Mrs. Angie nodded and smiled, as if she remembered her good old days. "I continued to work as a dishwasher for . . . I think, eight more years. Lady Amelia took over. I saw her several times trying the meals the restaurant prepared with another woman, maybe her sister. I'm not entirely sure because I didn't see this guest of hers closely. Plus, she always wore sunglasses and a face mask. Her hair was always neatly tied up into a bun, so I wouldn't know if she had short or long or straight or curly hair. I just knew they were really close because this person was the only guest she invited ever."