Chapter 2 - The Woman With the House Code
The bedroom door clicked again.
Mariana grabbed my shirt.
“Adrián.”
I turned.
The bathroom door was still open.
The bedroom door was locked.
No one should have been able to touch it.
I crossed the room.
The handle moved slightly.
I froze.
Then it stopped.
I looked at the security monitor.
My mother and Mauricio were still outside the apartment.
Neither had moved.
I lowered my voice.
“Stay here.”
Mariana shook her head.
“No.”
“Mariana, you're hurt.”
“I won't stay alone.”
Her answer hit me harder than it should have.
She wasn't afraid of being alone because of what might happen to her.
She was afraid because someone had already entered our home before.
I helped her stand.
She winced.
“Can you walk?”
“Yes.”
“Don't lie.”
“I can.”
I put one arm around her waist.
We moved toward the bedroom.
The door was closed now.
I stared at it.
“Did you lock this?”
Mariana nodded.
“When?”
“Before I went to the bathroom.”
“Did anyone have a key?”
“No.”
“Your mother?”
“No.”
“Mine?”
She hesitated.
“My mother-in-law has never had one.”
I reached for the handle.
The security system suddenly beeped.
ACCESS DENIED.
I stared at the panel.
Then another message appeared.
ADMINISTRATOR ACCESS OVERRIDE.
My blood went cold.
Someone had administrator privileges.
Someone other than me.
I pulled out my phone and opened the building security application.
There were six temporary access codes.
Five were familiar.
Cleaning staff.
Maintenance.
Delivery.
One belonged to a person I had never authorized.
M. Salgado.
Active.
I took a screenshot.
Then I opened the building camera history.
The footage from the previous five days loaded.
Monday.
A woman in a medical uniform entered.
Tuesday.
The same woman entered.
Wednesday.
She entered with my mother.
Thursday.
She entered alone.
Friday.
She entered carrying a black medical case.
I watched the footage again.
There was something strange.
She never looked at the camera.
She knew exactly where it was.
That meant she had seen it before.
My phone rang.
Dr. Herrera.
Mariana's obstetrician.
I answered immediately.
“Doctor?”
“Adrián, where are you?”
“At home.”
“I've been trying to reach Mariana.”
“She hasn't been answering.”
“I know.”
His voice became serious.
“She missed her appointment five days ago.”
“I know.”
“I received a message from her number saying she wanted to cancel all future appointments.”
Mariana looked at me.
“I never sent that.”
“Doctor, can you confirm something?”
“Yes.”
“Did you ever prescribe medication to stop contractions?”
“No.”
My stomach tightened.
“Did anyone from your office send a nurse to our apartment?”
“No.”
“Are you sure?”
“Absolutely.”
I looked at the bottle on the bathroom counter.
“Then someone is impersonating your staff.”
There was silence.
“Adrián,” the doctor said carefully, “you need to get Mariana to a hospital immediately.”
“I know.”
“Don't let anyone else make medical decisions for her.”
I looked at the security monitor.
My mother lifted her hand.
She pressed the intercom.
“Adrián.”
I didn't answer.
“Your doctor is going to tell you to take Mariana to the hospital.”
My eyes widened.
She could hear us.
The intercom had somehow been activated inside the apartment.
I looked toward the ceiling.
A tiny green light blinked.
Someone had accessed the apartment's internal communication system.
My mother continued.
“But that would be a mistake.”
I stepped closer to the panel.
“How are you talking to me?”
“Because you gave me access.”
“No, I didn't.”
She sighed.
“You don't remember everything you've signed.”
The line went dead.
Mariana's face turned white.
“She knows.”
“Knows what?”
“Everything.”
I looked at her.
“What did you never tell me?”
She hesitated.
“I tried.”
“When?”
“Three weeks ago.”
“What happened?”
“Your mother came to the house.”
“And?”
“She told me she knew about the pregnancy complications.”
“What complications?”
Mariana looked down.
“There weren't any.”
I stared at her.
“What?”
“She said there would be.”
The words made no sense.
“Why?”
“She said if something happened during the pregnancy, everyone would believe it was because I was emotionally unstable.”
My hands curled into fists.
“She was preparing a story.”
Mariana nodded.
“She kept asking me questions.”
“What questions?”
“If I was sleeping.”
“If I was taking medication.”
“If I heard voices.”
“If I was afraid of hurting myself.”
I stared at her.
“Why would she ask that?”
Mariana began crying again.
“Because she wanted me to sound unstable.”
I looked toward the folders outside.
Everything suddenly connected.
The canceled appointments.
The medication.
The bruises.
The forged signature.
The security code.
The story about Mariana being unstable.
It wasn't random.
Someone had been building evidence.
I called the police.
Before I could finish speaking, the apartment lights flickered.
Once.
Twice.
Then the security system shut down.
Every camera went black.
The building door lock clicked.
My mother entered.
Mauricio followed.
Neither looked surprised to see me standing there.
Mauricio closed the door behind them.
“You shouldn't have called anyone,” he said.
I stared at him.
“You forged my signature.”
He didn't answer.
My mother stepped forward.
“That's a serious accusation.”
“I have the document.”
“Then you should read it carefully.”
“I did.”
“No.”
She smiled faintly.
“You read the first page.”
She opened the blue folder.
There were twelve pages inside.
She placed the folder on the table.
“Read page twelve.”
I didn't move.
Mauricio watched me.
Mariana stood behind me.
I turned to page twelve.
At the bottom was my signature.
But beneath it was something else.
A handwritten note.
Three words.
Medical incapacity confirmed.
My heart stopped.
“Who confirmed it?”
My mother looked at Mariana.
“The nurse.”
“The fake nurse?”
My mother didn't blink.
“She isn't fake.”
I looked at Mauricio.
He finally spoke.
“She has been treating Mariana for five days.”
“For what?”
He slid another document toward me.
“Psychological instability.”
Mariana gasped.
“That isn't true.”
I picked up the paper.
The report claimed Mariana had experienced severe anxiety, paranoia, emotional instability, and episodes of confusion.
There was even a supposed statement from her.
A statement saying she feared her husband.
I looked at her.
She was shaking.
“I never said that.”
I believed her.
But belief wasn't enough.
Not anymore.
I needed proof.
I needed to know who had created the report.
I looked at the bottom.
The doctor's name was listed.
Dr. Esteban Herrera.
My doctor.
I immediately called him again.
He answered.
“Adrián?”
“Doctor, did you sign a psychological evaluation on Mariana?”
“No.”
I looked at the paper.
“It's your signature.”
“It isn't mine.”
I turned the page.
There was a second signature.
A witness.
Mauricio Lozano.
I looked up.
He was already watching me.
“You made the report.”
“No.”
“You witnessed it.”
“I witnessed nothing.”
“Then why is your signature here?”
He stepped closer.
“Because you don't understand what you're looking at.”
I laughed bitterly.
“Then explain it.”
He didn't.
My mother took the document from my hand.
“You're becoming emotional.”
“I am looking at a forged medical report about my pregnant wife.”
“You're angry.”
“I'm supposed to be.”
“You're not thinking clearly.”
I stared at her.
Then I understood.
They weren't just building a case against Mariana.
They were building one against me.
My mother looked at Mauricio.
He nodded.
She reached into her handbag.
And pulled out a small silver recorder.
She pressed play.
My own voice filled the room.
“I don't think Mariana is stable enough to make decisions.”
I froze.
Mariana looked at me in horror.
I had never said those words.
But the voice was mine.
Perfectly mine.
Then the recording continued.
“If anything happens, my mother should handle everything.”
Mariana began sobbing.
My mother smiled.
And then the recording reached a sentence I had never spoken.
“I authorize her to take control of the baby.”
The room went silent.
My mother switched off the recorder.
“You see, Adrián?”
She placed it on the table.
“This is why nobody will believe you.”
I stared at the device.
Then at Mauricio.
Then at my wife.
Someone had created a recording of my voice.
Someone had forged my signature.
Someone had forged a medical report.
Someone had given a stranger access to my home.
And now I knew they had one more weapon.
My mother's phone suddenly rang.
She answered.
Her expression changed.
She looked directly at Mariana.
Then she said only four words.
“They found the second file.”
Mauricio's face went pale.
May you like
He immediately locked the apartment door.
And somewhere inside the bedroom, a hidden phone began to ring...
