Chapter 8 - Rodrigo Comes Home
I didn't answer.
Rodrigo called.
I let it ring.
He called again.
Then again.
Finally, Emilia said:
“Pick up.”
“Why?”
“Because we need him talking.”
I answered.
“What do you want?”
“Five minutes.”
“No.”
“You deserve the truth.”
I almost laughed.
“You've lied for years.”
“I never lied about loving you.”
That hurt.
Because some part of me still wanted to believe him.
Then he said:
“Your father wasn't killed because of an accident.”
My body went cold.
“What did you say?”
“He was investigating people who were more powerful than he understood.”
“Who?”
“Varela.”
“And your family?”
“My mother got involved later.”
“What about you?”
Silence.
“You were involved from the beginning.”
“I was young.”
“You were twenty-seven.”
“I didn't understand.”
“You married me because of him.”
“I married you because I loved you.”
“Then why did you investigate my family before we met?”
He didn't answer.
“Rodrigo.”
“I made mistakes.”
“How many?”
“Enough.”
I closed my eyes.
“Tell me what happened to my father.”
“I can't.”
“Why?”
“Because if I tell you, they will come after you.”
“They already are.”
He sighed.
“Meet me.”
“No.”
“Then you'll never know.”
The call ended.
I looked at Emilia.
“It's a trap.”
“Probably.”
“Then why do I feel like he knows something?”
“Because he does.”
That evening, Gabriel brought another file.
“The woman from the payment.”
I opened it.
Her name was Sofia Méndez.
She had worked for my father.
She was the one who paid Rodrigo.
But she had disappeared.
“Where is she?”
“Dead.”
I looked up.
“When?”
“Three years ago.”
“How?”
“Officially? Accident.”
My hands went cold.
“Another accident?”
Gabriel didn't answer.
The pattern was becoming impossible to ignore.
My father.
Sofia.
Anyone who knew too much.
Then I remembered something.
Rodrigo had once told me he hated hospitals.
But when my father died, Rodrigo had arrived at the hospital before I did.
I had never questioned it.
Now I did.
“Emilia.”
“Yes?”
“Find out who signed my father's hospital admission.”
She looked at me.
“Why?”
“I need to know who got there first.”
She made the call.
Twenty minutes later, she returned.
Her face was pale.
“Rodrigo.”
My heart sank.
“He signed the admission paperwork.”
“He wasn't family.”
“He claimed to be.”
I sat down.
“How did he know?”
“We don't know.”
Gabriel looked toward the window.
“There is one more thing.”
“What?”
“Your father left a recording.”
“Where?”
“Not here.”
“Where?”
“At the old family property.”
The property had been sold after my father's death.
Or so I thought.
Gabriel handed me an old deed.
It showed the property had never been sold.
The buyer had been a company controlled by my father's trust.
I stared at the name.
Salgado Holdings.
The property still belonged to me.
I drove there with Emilia.
The building was abandoned.
Inside, we found old furniture.
Boxes.
And a recording device.
It contained one file.
My father's voice filled the room.
“Mariana, if you're hearing this, then Rodrigo has already found you.”
I covered my mouth.
His voice continued.
“Do not trust anything he tells you about my death.”
Then the recording crackled.
A second voice appeared.
A man's voice.
Varela.
I recognized him immediately.
He said:
“Your daughter will never know what happened.”
My father's voice answered:
“She will know.”
The recording ended.
Emilia stared at me.
Then the door slammed.
We turned.
A man stood outside.
He held the recording device.
He looked directly at me.
“Mariana.”
I knew him.
It was Varela.
He smiled.
“You look exactly like your father.”
May you like
Then he raised the device.
“And I think you should hear the rest...”
