Chapter 11 - The Second Signature
My mother reached for the door.
I caught her wrist.
“Where are you going?”
She pulled away.
“To find Mia.”
“No.”
Her eyes filled with tears.
“You heard her.”
“I heard my daughter.”
“Then let me go.”
“Not alone.”
She looked toward Mariana.
“She's the reason Mia is in danger.”
Mariana stepped forward.
“Don't blame me.”
“I don't.”
“You just said—”
“I said they are watching you.”
My mother looked at her stomach.
“They always have.”
I stared at her.
“Who are they?”
She shook her head.
“I don't know anymore.”
“That isn't good enough.”
She turned away.
“Adrián, please.”
“No more secrets.”
She stopped.
For several seconds, nobody spoke.
Then she whispered:
“Your father wasn't your biological father.”
The words seemed to empty the room.
I stared at her.
“What?”
Mariana went completely still.
My mother looked at me.
“Your father raised you.”
I laughed once.
A bitter, confused sound.
“That doesn't make sense.”
“I know.”
“Who was?”
She looked toward the old photographs on the wall.
“I don't know.”
“You don't know who my father was?”
“I knew him.”
“Then who?”
She closed her eyes.
“A man named Gabriel Ortega.”
The name hit the room like a gunshot.
I stared at her.
“Ortega?”
She nodded.
“The same family?”
“Yes.”
“The people who took Mia?”
“Yes.”
I stepped backward.
“You're telling me my biological father was one of them?”
“I don't know if he was.”
“You just said his name.”
“Because that's what your father discovered.”
“My father?”
“The man who raised you.”
I couldn't think.
Everything I believed about my childhood suddenly felt false.
My father's face.
His voice.
The way he had taught me to drive.
The way he had called me his son.
Was any of it real?
Mariana reached for my hand.
I took it.
My mother continued.
“Your father found out before he died.”
“How?”
“He ordered a DNA test.”
“Why?”
“Because he suspected something.”
“What did it say?”
“He never told me.”
“Then how do you know?”
“Because I found the report after his death.”
“Where?”
“In his office.”
“Do you still have it?”
She hesitated.
“Yes.”
“Where?”
“At home.”
I stared at her.
“My home?”
She nodded.
“In a safe.”
“Why didn't you tell me?”
“Because the report didn't just name your biological father.”
“What else?”
“It identified a second person.”
I frowned.
“Who?”
My mother looked at Mariana.
“Your daughter.”
Mariana's face went white.
“How?”
“I don't know.”
“You said Gabriel Ortega was Adrián's biological father.”
“Yes.”
“Then why would Mia's DNA matter?”
My mother whispered:
“Because Mia wasn't only connected to the Ortega family.”
She looked at me.
“She was connected to someone else.”
“Who?”
“I never found out.”
I stepped toward her.
“Then we go to the safe.”
She nodded.
We left the warehouse.
The night had become colder.
Mariana walked beside me.
Marta followed.
My mother stayed behind us.
I kept thinking about the child's voice.
Dad.
One word.
Eight years of silence.
One word that could destroy everything I believed.
We reached my car.
Before I opened the door, my phone vibrated.
A message from the same unknown number.
DON'T TRUST OFELIA.
I looked at my mother.
She saw the screen.
“I know.”
Another message arrived.
SHE DIDN'T TELL YOU ABOUT THE SECOND SIGNATURE.
My stomach tightened.
I typed:
What second signature?
The reply came immediately.
THE ONE THAT MADE MIA LEGALLY DISAPPEAR.
I showed it to Marta.
She looked frightened.
“That's impossible.”
“Why?”
“Because there was only one signature.”
“Whose?”
“The guardian's.”
“Lucía?”
Marta nodded.
“Then what is the second signature?”
She didn't answer.
My mother whispered:
“Mine.”
I looked at her.
“You signed something else?”
“Yes.”
“What?”
“I signed away my rights.”
“To Mia?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“To make sure they couldn't use me to locate her.”
Mariana stared at her.
“You gave up your rights to your granddaughter.”
“To save her.”
“You keep saying that.”
“Because it's true.”
“How?”
My mother looked at her.
“If they believed I still had legal control, they would have come after me.”
“And instead?”
“They came after you.”
Silence.
I felt something inside me break.
“You knew they would come after Mariana.”
“I knew they might.”
“And you let them.”
“I tried to stop them.”
“With what?”
She didn't answer.
I opened the car door.
“We're going home.”
“No,” my mother said.
I turned.
“Why?”
“Because that's where they'll expect us.”
“Then where?”
She looked at the old warehouse.
“Your father's house.”
I frowned.
“My father sold it.”
“No.”
“He died there.”
“No.”
I stared at her.
“What?”
“He never sold it.”
“Then why did you tell me he did?”
“Because the house contains the original archive.”
I couldn't believe anything anymore.
“You've lied to me for years.”
“Yes.”
“And now you want me to trust you.”
“No.”
She looked at me.
“I want you to see it for yourself.”
We drove to the house.
The property sat outside the city.
Dark.
Abandoned.
The gates were rusted.
I had been there only once after my father's death.
My mother had told me everything had been removed.
Apparently, she had lied.
Again.
We entered through the side door.
Dust covered the furniture.
Photographs still hung on the walls.
My father.
Me as a child.
My mother.
And one photograph I had never seen.
My father standing beside a young man.
The man looked almost exactly like me.
I stared.
“Who is that?”
My mother stopped behind me.
“Gabriel.”
I touched the photograph.
“He looks like me.”
“Yes.”
Mariana stepped closer.
“How old was he?”
“Twenty-nine.”
“When?”
“Before Adrián was born.”
I turned toward my mother.
“You knew.”
“Yes.”
“You knew he was my biological father.”
“I suspected.”
“Did my father know?”
“Yes.”
“What did he do?”
“He raised you anyway.”
My throat tightened.
“Why?”
“Because he loved you.”
I looked away.
For the first time that night, the truth hurt differently.
Not because my father had lied.
Because maybe he had lied for love.
We entered his old study.
My mother went to the bookshelf.
She pulled out a book.
A hidden compartment opened.
Inside was a metal box.
She entered a code.
The lid opened.
There were passports.
Old photographs.
A DNA report.
And a sealed envelope.
My name.
I took the DNA report.
The first page showed my father's name.
JULIÁN LOZANO — PATERNITY EXCLUDED.
My heart stopped.
Below it:
GABRIEL ORTEGA — BIOLOGICAL FATHER PROBABILITY: 99.98%.
I sat down.
Mariana placed a hand on my shoulder.
I kept reading.
Then I saw the second test.
MIA LOZANO — MATERNAL RELATIONSHIP CONFIRMED.
That was expected.
Then another line.
PATERNAL LINEAGE MATCH: ORTEGA FAMILY.
I looked at my mother.
“You knew.”
“Yes.”
“And you still let them take her.”
“I didn't know what they would do.”
I opened the sealed envelope.
Inside was a handwritten letter from my father.
Adrián,
If you ever discover that Gabriel Ortega is your biological father, don't hate the man who raised you. He was your father because he chose to be.
I stopped reading.
My eyes burned.
The next paragraph was worse.
But there is one thing you must understand. Gabriel had another child.
I looked up.
Mariana whispered:
“Another child?”
I continued.
A daughter.
The room went silent.
My mother covered her mouth.
I read the final line.
Her name was Lucía.
I stared at the paper.
Lucía.
The woman who raised Mia.
The woman who had called me.
The woman who knew everything.
My hands started shaking.
“She wasn't just Mia's guardian.”
My mother looked at me.
“No.”
“She was Gabriel's daughter.”
“Yes.”
Mariana whispered:
“Then Mia…”
I looked at the DNA report.
Mia wasn't only connected to the Ortega family through me.
She was connected through Lucía.
She had been placed with her own biological relative.
I understood why they had trusted Lucía.
But one question remained.
“Why did Lucía call herself Mia's guardian instead of her aunt?”
My mother didn't answer.
A noise came from the hallway.
A floorboard creaked.
I looked up.
Someone was inside the house.
Marta moved toward the door.
“Stay here.”
“No.”
She opened it.
The hallway was empty.
Then a child's voice came from downstairs.
“Mom?”
Mariana froze.
I looked at her.
“Mia?”
The voice came again.
“Mom?”
Mariana ran toward the stairs.
I followed.
“Mia!”
A small figure stood at the bottom.
Long dark hair.
Pink hair clip.
Brown eyes.
She looked up at us.
Mariana stopped halfway down.
Her hands covered her mouth.
The girl stared at her.
Then at me.
For several seconds, nobody moved.
Finally, the girl whispered:
“Are you my parents?”
Mariana collapsed to her knees.
“Yes.”
The girl started crying.
I went down the stairs slowly.
I didn't want to scare her.
“Mia.”
She looked at me.
“You came.”
I nodded.
“I promised I would.”
“But you didn't know where I was.”
“No.”
“Mom said you would find me.”
“Lucía?”
The girl nodded.
“She told me you were looking.”
I knelt.
“Where is she?”
Mia's face changed.
“She told me to hide.”
“Why?”
“She said someone was coming.”
“Who?”
Mia looked behind me.
Her eyes widened.
“Grandma.”
I turned.
My mother stood at the top of the stairs.
She was crying.
Mia stepped backward.
“Don't let her take me.”
My mother froze.
“Mia…”
The girl shook her head.
“You promised.”
My mother covered her face.
“I never wanted this.”
Mia's voice trembled.
“You signed the paper.”
I stared at my mother.
“What paper?”
Mia looked at me.
“The one that says I'm not your daughter.”
My heart stopped.
“What?”
She pointed toward the study.
“Lucía showed me.”
My mother whispered:
“No.”
I turned toward her.
“What did you sign?”
She didn't answer.
Mia looked at me.
“She said the second signature was yours.”
I felt cold.
“Second signature?”
My mother finally whispered:
“The adoption order.”
I stared at her.
“You legally gave Mia to Lucía.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because it was the only way to keep her hidden.”
“From whom?”
My mother looked toward the front door.
A car engine started outside.
She went pale.
“Not them.”
I reached for Mia.
“Stay behind me.”
The headlights swept across the windows.
One vehicle.
Then another.
Then a third.
My mother whispered:
“They found us.”
The front door handle began to turn.
Mia grabbed my hand.
Then a voice came from outside.
“Adrián, open the door.”
I knew that voice.
Mauricio.
But before I could move, another voice came from behind us.
A woman's voice.
Calm.
Familiar.
“Don't open it.”
I turned.
May you like
Lucía was standing in the doorway of my father's study.
And she was holding a document with one name circled in red...
