Chapter 4 - The Woman at the Clinic
The address belonged to an abandoned maternity clinic outside Puebla.
Julián wanted the police to wait for backup.
Mariana refused to remain behind.
“I need answers.”
“You need rest.”
“I need the truth.”
The investigator finally agreed to take her under protection.
They arrived just before midnight.
The clinic had been closed for years.
Its windows were boarded.
The sign was broken.
Inside, the air smelled of dust and disinfectant.
Mariana walked beside Julián.
Every step made her stomach tighten.
They found the records room first.
Most files had been destroyed.
But one cabinet remained locked.
The investigator forced it open.
Inside were dozens of birth records.
One folder carried Mariana's name.
She opened it.
The first page showed her mother's name.
Isabel Herrera.
The second page contained something else.
A handwritten note.
Twin B transferred immediately after birth.
Mariana's hands shook.
“Twin B?”
Julián read the rest.
“Transferred to private guardianship.”
“Who?”
The name had been blacked out.
Then they heard footsteps.
Everyone froze.
Julián drew his weapon.
A woman appeared at the end of the corridor.
She was in her early thirties.
Dark hair.
Same eyes as Mariana.
Same small scar near the left eyebrow.
Mariana stopped breathing.
The woman stared at her.
Neither spoke.
Then the woman whispered,
“Mariana?”
Mariana's knees nearly gave out.
Julián caught her.
The woman stepped closer.
“My name is Lucía.”
Mariana covered her mouth.
The woman began crying.
“I've spent my whole life looking for you.”
Mariana stared.
“Why?”
“Because they told me you were dead.”
The investigator stepped between them.
“Who told you?”
Lucía looked toward the old records room.
“Your mother.”
Mariana shook her head.
“My mother died six years ago.”
Lucía's expression broke.
“No.”
She reached into her coat.
Pulled out a photograph.
It showed two babies.
A woman holding them.
And a man standing behind her.
Mariana recognized the man.
Her father.
But the photograph had something strange.
Someone had circled one baby.
Written beneath it were two words:
KEEP HER.
Mariana looked at Lucía.
“Which one?”
Lucía pointed.
“Me.”
The room became silent.
“Why would they keep you?”
Lucía shook her head.
“I don't know.”
Then she looked at Julián.
“But your mother does.”
Julián's face hardened.
Before he could answer, the investigator's radio crackled.
“Sir, we have movement outside.”
Everyone turned.
A vehicle had stopped near the clinic.
The headlights went out.
Then another vehicle arrived.
Lucía whispered,
“They found me.”
Julián pulled Mariana behind him.
“How many?”
The investigator looked through the window.
“Three.”
A gunshot shattered the glass.
Everyone ducked.
Mariana screamed.
Julián grabbed her and pulled her toward the records room.
“Stay behind me.”
Another shot.
Then another.
The lights died.
In total darkness, Lucía grabbed Mariana's wrist.
“There’s another exit.”
“Where?”
“Under the floor.”
They followed her through a hidden passage.
At the end was a steel door.
Lucía entered a code.
The door opened.
But before Mariana could step through, she saw something written on the wall.
A date.
Her birth date.
And underneath:
THE SECOND CHILD WAS NEVER SUPPOSED TO BE FOUND.
Then footsteps sounded behind them.
May you like
Someone whispered Mariana's name.
And the voice belonged to someone she had believed was dead.
