Chapter 2 - The Envelope Under the Cart
Elena stepped backward.
Mauricio raised one hand.
“Don't move.”
Augusto stopped in the corridor.
The office handle turned farther.
Mauricio's mind moved faster than his body could.
The door had been locked.
Only four people possessed keys.
Mauricio.
Augusto.
His attorney.
And Valentina.
The door opened three inches.
Then stopped.
“Who's there?” Mauricio demanded.
Silence.
He rolled forward.
Elena moved beside him.
Augusto rushed closer.
“Mr. Ferreira, please.”
Mauricio turned sharply.
“Why did you tell me not to open the envelope?”
Augusto's mouth tightened.
“I was referring to the office.”
“You were looking at the envelope.”
“No.”
“You're lying.”
Twenty years of loyalty stood between the two men.
Mauricio had inherited Augusto along with the mansion after his father died. The administrator had attended Mauricio's university graduation. He had organized his mother's funeral. After Mauricio's accident, Augusto had redesigned half the mansion before Mauricio even returned from the hospital.
Mauricio trusted him.
Or had.
“Who is inside?” Mauricio asked.
“I don't know.”
Mauricio pushed the door.
It opened.
The office was empty.
Elena entered behind him.
The windows were closed.
The balcony doors were locked.
No one could have left without passing them.
Mauricio looked toward the connecting door beside the bookshelves.
Open.
It led to a smaller records room and another corridor.
Someone had escaped.
Augusto remained outside.
Mauricio looked at Elena.
“The envelope.”
She handed it to him.
Mauricio tore it open.
Inside was a single sheet of paper.
He read it once.
Then again.
Elena watched his face.
“What does it say?”
Mauricio didn't answer.
He handed it to her.
There were only two lines.
IF SHE LEAVES, ASK WHY YOUR RECOVERY REPORTS WERE SENT TO HER BEFORE THEY WERE SENT TO YOU.
START WITH APRIL 17.
Elena looked up.
“What happened April seventeenth?”
Mauricio knew immediately.
“That was the day my doctors told Valentina privately that I might never regain full use of my legs.”
“But why would she receive the report before you?”
“She shouldn't have.”
Augusto appeared in the doorway.
Mauricio lifted the paper.
“Do you know anything about this?”
“No.”
“Think carefully.”
“I said no.”
Mauricio studied him.
The answer came too quickly.
He wheeled toward his desk and opened a drawer containing medical files.
April.
He found the report.
His copy was dated April 18.
He remembered receiving it that afternoon.
He turned to the distribution record.
Valentina Ferreira.
Not Ferreira.
Silveira.
He looked closer.
The record showed an electronic delivery timestamp.
April 17.
9:16 p.m.
His copy had been released thirteen hours later.
Mauricio felt cold.
“Who authorized this?”
Augusto approached.
“I don't know.”
“You manage my household records.”
“Not your medical team.”
“But you coordinate with them.”
“Yes.”
“Then find out.”
Augusto nodded.
Mauricio looked at Elena.
She was staring at the bottom of the report.
“What?”
“There.”
She pointed.
A second email address had received the document.
The name was partially obscured on the printed copy.
Only initials remained.
R.F.
Mauricio recognized them.
Rafael Ferreira.
His cousin.
His closest surviving relative.
And the vice chairman of his company.
Mauricio's stomach tightened.
Rafael had been with him the night of the accident.
Not in the car.
But at the restaurant beforehand.
He had also been one of the first people at the hospital.
“Call Rafael,” Mauricio said.
Augusto didn't move.
“Now.”
“It's nearly midnight.”
“I don't care.”
Augusto took out his phone.
Rafael answered after four rings.
“Mauricio?”
His voice sounded sleepy.
“Where are you?”
“At home. Why?”
“Did you receive one of my medical reports on April seventeenth?”
Silence.
“Mauricio, you've had a difficult day.”
“Answer me.”
“I don't remember.”
“Try.”
“I was involved with insurance paperwork after your accident. Maybe something was forwarded.”
“Why would Valentina receive it first?”
Another silence.
“I don't know.”
Mauricio looked at Elena.
She was listening.
“Come here tomorrow morning.”
“Mauricio—”
“Nine.”
He ended the call.
Augusto exhaled.
“You should rest.”
Mauricio almost smiled.
Everyone had been telling him that for eleven months.
Rest.
Recover.
Don't worry.
Let us handle it.
He was suddenly sick of being handled.
“Elena.”
“Yes?”
“You found the envelope?”
“Yes.”
“Did anyone see you pick it up?”
“I don't think so.”
“Why didn't you bring it to me immediately?”
Her cheeks colored.
“Because you were being abandoned at the altar.”
Mauricio stared at her.
“I thought you had enough happening for five minutes.”
Against all logic, he laughed.
One short sound.
Elena looked surprised.
So did Augusto.
Mauricio couldn't remember the last time laughter had escaped him without permission.
“Fair enough,” he said.
He looked again at the note.
“Whoever wrote this knew Valentina might leave.”
Elena nodded.
“And knew about your medical records.”
“Yes.”
“And could get close enough to your office to leave this.”
Mauricio turned toward Augusto.
The administrator looked insulted.
“You cannot possibly think I wrote it.”
“I don't know what to think.”
Augusto straightened.
“I have served this family for twenty-six years.”
“And tonight someone entered a locked office in the house you manage.”
The words landed hard.
Augusto lowered his eyes.
“I'll review the security system.”
“Do it.”
Mauricio looked at Elena.
“You should go home.”
“I haven't finished.”
“The glasses can survive until morning.”
She almost smiled.
“Yes, sir.”
“Elena.”
She paused.
“Thank you.”
Her expression softened.
“You're welcome.”
She left.
Mauricio watched until she disappeared.
Augusto noticed.
“She is a good employee.”
“Apparently she's also the only person in this house who says what she's thinking.”
“That quality is not always useful.”
“Tonight it was.”
Mauricio returned to his bedroom after one in the morning.
He didn't sleep.
He kept remembering Valentina.
Not the woman at the altar.
The woman beside his hospital bed.
The woman who had held his hand when sensation failed to return to his legs.
The woman who had whispered, “I'm not going anywhere.”
Had she meant it then?
Had something changed?
Or had he misunderstood her from the beginning?
At six, Mauricio gave up trying to sleep.
His physical therapist arrived at seven.
For the first time in weeks, Mauricio completed every exercise without complaint.
Pain moved through his lower back.
His left leg responded slightly during one movement.
His right didn't.
He kept going.
“You're angry,” his therapist said.
“Observant.”
“Use it. Don't let it use you.”
At eight thirty, Mauricio showered and dressed.
At eight fifty-five, Rafael arrived.
Mauricio was waiting in the library.
His cousin walked in wearing jeans, an open-collared shirt, and concern carefully arranged across his face.
“Mauricio.”
“Sit.”
Rafael did.
“I heard what happened yesterday. I'm sorry.”
“I didn't invite you here to discuss my wedding.”
“You didn't have a wedding.”
Mauricio's expression hardened.
Rafael immediately regretted the wording.
“Sorry.”
Mauricio placed the April report on the table.
“Explain your email address.”
Rafael stared at it.
“I told you. Insurance.”
“This wasn't an insurance report.”
Rafael rubbed his jaw.
“I honestly don't remember.”
“Valentina received it too.”
“I don't control her email.”
“Did you discuss my prognosis with her?”
“No.”
Mauricio watched him.
Rafael had always been a poor liar as a child.
He would blink too much.
Now he was blinking.
“Again,” Mauricio said. “Did you discuss my prognosis with Valentina?”
Rafael stood.
“This is ridiculous.”
“Sit down.”
“I came because I thought you needed family.”
“I need answers.”
“You need sleep.”
Mauricio felt anger flare.
“Stop telling me what I need.”
Rafael stared at him.
Then sat.
“I spoke to her once,” he admitted.
“When?”
“April.”
“About?”
“You.”
Mauricio said nothing.
Rafael continued.
“She was scared.”
“Of what?”
“The future.”
“What did you tell her?”
“The truth.”
“Which truth?”
Rafael leaned forward.
“That loving someone after an accident isn't the same as building your entire life around their recovery.”
Mauricio's face went still.
“You told my fiancée that?”
“She asked me.”
“And you had my medical report.”
“I was trying to help.”
“Who sent it?”
“I don't remember.”
Mauricio leaned back.
“You're lying again.”
Before Rafael could respond, someone knocked.
Elena stood at the doorway.
She wasn't scheduled until noon.
Her face was pale.
“Mr. Ferreira?”
Rafael looked irritated.
“We're busy.”
Elena ignored him.
Mauricio noticed something in her hand.
A phone.
Not hers.
“What's wrong?”
“I found this outside.”
She crossed the room.
“Where?”
“Near the west gate.”
Mauricio took it.
The screen was cracked.
A photograph was displayed.
Mauricio stared.
It showed Valentina.
The photograph had been taken the previous morning.
Twenty minutes before the wedding.
She was standing in the library corridor.
Talking to a man.
The camera angle showed only part of his face.
But Mauricio knew the watch on his wrist.
He had given it to him for his thirtieth birthday.
Mauricio slowly lifted his eyes.
Rafael was already standing.
His face had gone white.
The man in the photograph was Rafael.
And beneath the image was an unsent message addressed to Mauricio.
It contained six words.
ASK HIM WHAT HE PROMISED VALENTINA.
Mauricio turned the phone toward his cousin.
May you like
Rafael stared at it.
Then someone outside the library screamed Elena's name.
