Chapter 11 - The Evidence in the Hospital Basement
Locker 417 was in the basement of an old office building owned by Don Ernesto.
Sofía came with me.
The key turned.
Inside was a box.
No money.
No jewelry.
Documents.
Photographs.
Medical records.
And one envelope addressed to me.
Mariana Salgado.
I opened it.
The first page was a copy of my marriage certificate.
The second was a financial agreement dated six months before my wedding.
My name appeared at the bottom.
I read the first paragraph.
My marriage to Álvaro had been connected to a private financial guarantee.
I couldn't breathe.
Sofía took the document.
“This was prepared before you married.”
I stared at the signature.
It was forged.
But beneath it was Álvaro's signature.
Real.
I closed my eyes.
Everything suddenly made sense.
The first time Álvaro told me he loved me.
The first time he introduced me to his father.
The first time Don Ernesto praised my career.
It had all happened after this agreement.
I had been chosen.
Not loved.
Chosen.
Then I found another photograph.
Me.
Leaving the hospital after my residency.
Álvaro standing across the street.
Watching me.
The photograph had been taken before we officially met.
I felt sick.
“He was already watching me.”
Sofía nodded.
“There is more.”
A second folder contained medical records.
Daniel's.
Jimena's son.
And another patient.
A woman.
The name was partially blacked out.
But the hospital code was familiar.
I knew that code.
It belonged to a patient treated at my hospital.
A patient whose case had been classified.
“Why would they have this?”
Sofía looked at the records.
“Because someone inside the hospital gave them access.”
My phone rang.
The hospital director.
“Dr. Salgado, we need you upstairs.”
“Why?”
“There has been a security breach.”
My stomach dropped.
“What kind?”
“Someone accessed your surgical records.”
I ran upstairs.
My office had been searched.
Drawers open.
Files missing.
Computer disconnected.
But nothing had been stolen except one thing.
Mateo's medical file.
I stared at the empty cabinet.
Someone wanted information about the boy I had saved.
Why?
Then I remembered the call from the unknown man.
We know who you operated on last night.
I called Sofía.
“Mateo is connected to this.”
We checked his family records.
His father had worked for a financial company.
A company linked to Norte Alto.
Then we found something even stranger.
Mateo's father had died three months earlier.
Official cause:
Accident.
But his insurance beneficiary was Norte Alto Consultores.
I felt cold.
“Why would a dead man's insurance pay a company?”
Sofía looked at me.
“Because he probably knew something.”
We went back to the locker.
There was one final envelope.
Inside was a handwritten note.
Mateo's father discovered the ledger.
I read the next line.
He was killed before he could expose it.
My hands shook.
Then another line:
The person who ordered it is not Esteban.
At that exact moment, my phone received a photograph.
It showed Mateo's hospital room.
Taken from inside.
May you like
And underneath was a message:
Stop digging, Doctor.
