Chapter 13 - The Family’s Last Demand
The police arrested Jimena.
But the story wasn't over.
The document they carried was an arrest warrant for me.
I stared at it.
“What?”
Sofía stepped forward.
“It's based on fraudulent transfers.”
“They're accusing me?”
“Yes.”
I looked at Álvaro.
His face was devastated.
“Your father arranged this.”
He nodded.
“He planned to make you responsible for everything.”
I felt numb.
For years, I had worked to save strangers.
Now I had to prove I wasn't a criminal in a crime committed using my own identity.
The next seventy-two hours became a blur.
Bank records.
Hospital records.
Digital evidence.
Forged signatures.
Security footage.
Everything was collected.
Daniel provided testimony.
Camila provided emails.
Even Jimena eventually admitted what she had done.
She had not killed Mateo's father.
But she had helped conceal the records.
She had been trying to force Don Ernesto to surrender control.
The real evidence came from an old server.
Sofía found it in a storage room.
It contained everything.
Every login.
Every transfer.
Every forged document.
And the account that authorized the first transaction.
Álvaro's.
He had been the one who initiated it.
But there was something else.
A second login.
Don Ernesto's.
Then a third.
Jimena's.
The family had been working together.
Until they turned against each other.
I gave everything to investigators.
For the first time, I stopped protecting people who had never protected me.
Don Ernesto was arrested.
Jimena was arrested.
Several business associates were questioned.
Álvaro voluntarily surrendered his records.
He didn't ask me to forgive him.
That mattered.
Weeks later, my name was cleared.
The bank reversed the fraudulent obligations.
The hospital confirmed that I had never authorized the use of patient information.
And the company was dismantled.
But one question remained.
What happened to the money?
Sofía traced every peso.
Some was recovered.
Some was gone.
But the largest amount had been transferred to an offshore account.
The account holder was unknown.
Then one morning, I received a letter.
No return address.
Inside was a single photograph.
A man standing outside a hospital.
Daniel recognized him.
“That's Esteban's former partner.”
I stared at the photograph.
“Is he still alive?”
Daniel nodded.
“Yes.”
“And where is he?”
Daniel turned the photograph over.
There was an address.
I looked at it.
Then I saw the date.
Tomorrow.
Someone had arranged a meeting.
May you like
And beneath the address were six words:
Bring the original ledger. Come alone.
