Chapter 14 - The Truth My Mother Couldn't Bury
The police officers surrounded the room.
I held Emiliano tightly.
Ofelia stepped forward.
“He has no idea what he's doing,” she told them.
I looked at the officers.
“She forged my signature and attempted to obtain custody of my child.”
One officer looked at the documents.
Another spoke with Daniel, who had arrived behind them.
Everything changed quickly.
The forged signature was submitted for examination.
The blue folder was collected.
The audio files were copied.
The photograph archive was secured.
And Rafael gave a statement.
My mother finally stopped smiling.
“You're all making a mistake.”
Rafael looked at her.
“No, Ofelia.”
She stared at him.
“You died.”
“I survived.”
She stepped backward.
“You can't prove anything.”
Rafael held up the original documents.
“Your handwriting is on everything.”
Paola walked toward her.
“You told me Mariana was dangerous.”
Mother looked at her.
“I was protecting you.”
“No.”
Paola shook her head.
“You were protecting yourself.”
That broke something in my mother.
She started shouting.
“She would have taken everything!”
Mariana stepped forward.
“I never wanted anything from you.”
“You took my son.”
“He was never yours.”
Silence.
Mother looked at me.
“You're my son.”
I answered quietly.
“And she's my wife.”
Mother's eyes filled with anger.
“You'll regret choosing her.”
I shook my head.
“I regret leaving her alone.”
The police officer stepped forward.
“Mrs. Ofelia, we need you to come with us.”
She looked at me one last time.
Then she said:
“You still don't know the worst part.”
I didn't respond.
She was taken away.
For the first time in weeks, the room became quiet.
Mariana walked toward me.
I held her.
She cried against my chest.
“I thought I'd lost everything.”
“You didn't.”
Lucia stood nearby.
Mariana reached for her.
Mother and daughter embraced.
Rafael watched from the doorway.
There was still one unanswered question.
The name Emiliano.
The old photograph.
The connection.
Daniel approached.
“I found the original adoption record.”
I looked at him.
“What does it say?”
He handed me the document.
The adoptive father's name was listed.
My father's name.
The adoptive mother was Victoria.
The child was Emiliano.
But there was another page.
A DNA test.
The child had later been reunited with his biological father.
Then the record stopped.
Daniel pointed to the final line.
Transferred to paternal family protection.
I stared.
“What does that mean?”
Daniel looked at me.
“It means your father protected him.”
“Where?”
Daniel hesitated.
Then he gave me a second document.
The address was familiar.
My childhood home.
I looked at the date.
Thirty years ago.
The day I was born.
There were two children in that house.
Me.
And another baby.
I looked at Paola.
She whispered:
“You had a brother.”
Then my phone rang.
The screen showed an unknown number.
I answered.
A man's voice spoke.
“Santiago?”
May you like
“Yes.”
“I think it's time you met your brother.”
