Chapter 13 - The Person Behind the Poison
The message remained on my screen.
The person who poisoned her is not Sergio.
I read it twice.
Then a third time.
My father looked at me.
“What did they say?”
I didn't answer.
Mateo stepped closer.
“Valeria?”
I showed him the phone.
His expression hardened.
My mother saw the screen.
She stopped crying.
“No.”
I looked at her.
“You know who it is.”
She shook her head.
“No.”
“You do.”
“I don't.”
“Then why did you say no?”
She looked toward the floor.
“I was hoping I was wrong.”
The police sirens grew louder outside.
Gabriel moved toward the window.
“Someone knew the police were coming.”
Mateo nodded.
“That message arrived too quickly.”
My father stood.
“You need to leave.”
I stared at him.
“You're the last person I'm listening to.”
“I mean it.”
“Why?”
“Because if the person who poisoned Teresa is still free, they know you have the evidence.”
“And?”
“They'll come for you.”
I looked at my phone.
Another message arrived.
Check the poisoning report. Page 4.
My hands went cold.
I opened the photograph of the medical file.
Page four.
There was a signature.
I zoomed in.
The doctor's name was visible.
Dr. Ricardo Mena.
But underneath it was another signature.
A witness.
I had missed it before.
The name was partially obscured by a fold in the paper.
I enlarged the image.
The letters became clearer.
C. Landa.
My mother.
I looked at her.
“Why is your signature on the poisoning report?”
She didn't move.
“I told you.”
“You said you signed medical documents.”
“Not that one.”
“Then what is it?”
She looked at the cassette recorder.
“I didn't poison Teresa.”
“I didn't say you did.”
“But you think I did.”
“I think you know more than you're telling me.”
She closed her eyes.
“I signed the report because Dr. Mena told me it was routine.”
“What routine report?”
“A consent form.”
“For what?”
“I don't remember.”
“You don't remember?”
“It was twenty-six years of lies, Valeria. You think I remember every document?”
“This was nine days ago.”
She looked at me.
“I didn't sign it nine days ago.”
My heart stopped.
“What?”
“I signed something years ago.”
“Why would your signature be on Teresa's poisoning report?”
She shook her head.
“I don't know.”
Mateo took the document.
He studied it.
“She's right.”
I looked at him.
“The ink is old.”
“How old?”
“At least twenty years.”
Silence.
My father looked away.
I noticed.
“You know.”
“No.”
“You looked away.”
“I don't know what you're talking about.”
“You always do that when you're lying.”
His jaw tightened.
Gabriel stepped between us.
“Sergio.”
My father looked at him.
“You stayed hidden for twenty-six years.”
“I stayed alive.”
“You should have stayed gone.”
Gabriel's expression hardened.
“Tell her.”
My father didn't answer.
“Tell her what happened.”
“Enough.”
“No.”
Gabriel pointed toward the recorder.
“She deserves the truth.”
My father stared at me.
Then he sighed.
“Teresa wasn't poisoned nine days ago.”
I felt my stomach drop.
“What?”
“She was poisoned twenty-six years ago.”
My mother covered her mouth.
Gabriel closed his eyes.
I stared at my father.
“What does that mean?”
“Teresa had been exposed to a toxin years earlier.”
“Then why didn't she die?”
“She survived.”
“How?”
“Her body recovered.”
I shook my head.
“That doesn't explain her death.”
“No.”
He looked toward the floor.
“It made her vulnerable.”
“To what?”
“Medication.”
My heart raced.
“What medication?”
“Drugs she took for her heart.”
I looked at Mateo.
He was already examining the medical records.
“Teresa's medication was changed shortly before she died.”
“By whom?”
My father didn't answer.
My mother whispered:
“Dr. Mena.”
I turned toward her.
“Why?”
“He said the old medication wasn't working.”
“Did Teresa know?”
“I don't know.”
“Who authorized it?”
My mother looked at the report.
“Me.”
The room went silent.
I stared at her.
“You?”
“I signed the authorization.”
“Why?”
“Because Teresa asked me to.”
“Why would she ask you?”
“She couldn't sign it herself.”
“Why?”
“She was too weak.”
I remembered the forged medical report.
The supposed cognitive decline.
The altered records.
Everything had been mixed together.
But now there was another possibility.
Someone had used my mother's signature to make the medication change look legitimate.
“Mom.”
She looked at me.
“Did you actually see Teresa sign anything?”
“No.”
“Then why did you sign?”
“She told me to.”
“Did she?”
My mother froze.
I saw the answer before she said it.
“No.”
I felt sick.
“Someone told you to.”
She nodded.
“Who?”
“I don't know.”
“You do.”
She started crying.
“I was given a folder.”
“By whom?”
She covered her face.
“I never saw the person's face.”
My father suddenly spoke.
“Claudia.”
She looked at him.
“Don't.”
“You can't keep doing this.”
My mother stared at him.
“You told me she would never find out.”
My father went silent.
I looked between them.
“What did he tell you?”
My mother wiped her tears.
“He said Teresa had to die.”
The room froze.
My father closed his eyes.
“I never said that.”
“You did.”
“I said she had to disappear.”
“You said she would ruin everything.”
“I was angry.”
“You gave me the medication.”
I stared at my father.
“You gave Mom the medication?”
He shook his head.
“No.”
My mother pointed at him.
“You brought it.”
“I brought the package.”
“For Teresa.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“I was told it was necessary.”
“By whom?”
He didn't answer.
“Who told you?”
Silence.
Then my father's phone vibrated.
Everyone looked at it.
He slowly took it from his pocket.
The screen showed an unknown number.
One message.
SHE REMEMBERS.
My father's face went pale.
I stepped toward him.
“Who is that?”
He didn't respond.
“Dad.”
He looked at me.
For the first time, he looked genuinely frightened.
“It can't be.”
“What?”
He whispered:
“She was supposed to be dead.”
My mother began shaking.
“Who?”
My father didn't answer.
Gabriel stepped forward.
“Say her name.”
Sergio looked at him.
“No.”
“Say it.”
“I won't.”
“You owe Valeria the truth.”
My father closed his eyes.
Then he whispered:
“Isabel.”
My mother gasped.
I had never heard the name before.
“Who is Isabel?”
Nobody answered.
“Who is she?”
Gabriel looked at my father.
“You're going to tell her.”
Sergio sat down.
“Isabel was Teresa's nurse.”
I frowned.
“From the nursing residence?”
“No.”
“Twenty-six years ago.”
I stared at him.
“She was there when you and Gabriel fought.”
“Yes.”
“What did she see?”
My father looked at me.
“Everything.”
“Then why is she involved now?”
“Because she knew about the poison.”
My heart stopped.
“Did she poison Teresa?”
“No.”
“Then who did?”
My father rubbed his face.
“Isabel knew who did.”
“Who?”
He looked at my mother.
“She saw Claudia enter Teresa's room.”
My mother shook her head violently.
“I didn't poison her.”
“You were holding the medication.”
“Because you gave it to me.”
“You signed the form.”
“Because you told me it was harmless.”
I looked at my mother.
“Why didn't you tell me?”
“Because I thought I had caused it.”
“What?”
“I thought my signature had authorized the medication that killed her.”
“But you didn't know.”
“I didn't know until Teresa was already dying.”
I looked at the medical records again.
The signature.
The date.
The medication.
Something didn't fit.
I took out my magnifying glass from my bag.
Mateo watched me.
“What are you looking for?”
“The signature.”
I examined it carefully.
The ink was old.
But the paper wasn't.
That was strange.
I turned the page.
The witness signature was written on a separate layer.
I looked closer.
“There.”
“What?”
“The signature was transferred.”
Mateo leaned in.
“You're sure?”
“Yes.”
I traced the edge with my finger.
“Someone removed the original signature and placed it onto this document.”
My mother stared at me.
“So I didn't sign this.”
“No.”
“Then who did?”
I looked at the witness line.
The name was now clear.
Isabel Rojas.
My heart pounded.
“The witness was Isabel.”
Mateo nodded.
“And if she saw the original document…”
“She knows who authorized the medication.”
I stood.
“We need to find her.”
My father looked at me.
“You can't.”
“Why?”
“Because she disappeared.”
“When?”
“Twenty-six years ago.”
Gabriel shook his head.
“No.”
My father looked at him.
“You knew?”
“I knew she survived.”
“Where is she?”
Gabriel's expression changed.
“I thought you knew.”
“I don't.”
Gabriel looked at me.
“She contacted me three days ago.”
My heart stopped.
“What did she say?”
“She said she had something Teresa wanted you to have.”
“What?”
“A photograph.”
“Of what?”
Gabriel reached into his jacket.
He pulled out a small envelope.
I opened it.
Inside was a photograph.
Teresa stood beside Isabel.
Behind them was a hospital room.
A date was printed at the bottom.
Twenty-six years ago.
I turned it over.
There was handwriting.
The first poison was never meant to kill Teresa.
I looked at Gabriel.
“What does that mean?”
He shook his head.
“I don't know.”
I examined the photograph again.
There was something in the background.
A man standing beside the hospital bed.
I enlarged it.
My breath caught.
It was Dr. Mena.
But he was much younger.
Beside him stood another man.
Someone I recognized.
Sergio.
My father.
I looked at the date.
Then at the medication chart in the photograph.
The same drug Teresa had supposedly taken nine days before her death.
My mind raced.
The poison wasn't new.
It had been part of a plan twenty-six years ago.
But then why had Teresa survived?
I looked at my father.
“What were you trying to do to her back then?”
He didn't answer.
Gabriel did.
“They weren't trying to kill Teresa.”
“Then what?”
“They were trying to make her look mentally unstable.”
I felt cold.
“The same plan.”
“Yes.”
“They started twenty-six years ago.”
“Yes.”
“And continued until she died.”
“Yes.”
My phone vibrated.
Another unknown message.
YOU ARE FINALLY LOOKING IN THE RIGHT PLACE.
Then:
GO TO THE OLD HOSPITAL.
Then:
BRING YOUR MOTHER.
A final message arrived.
SHE WILL REMEMBER WHO GAVE TERESA THE FIRST DOSE.
I looked at my mother.
She was staring at the phone.
“I remember.”
My blood ran cold.
“What?”
She looked at me.
“I remember who gave it to her.”
“Who?”
She began crying.
“I've spent twenty-six years trying to forget.”
“Mom.”
She looked toward the door.
Then whispered:
“It wasn't your father.”
A knock sounded from the hallway.
Three times.
My grandmother's knock.
My mother went completely still.
A woman's voice came through the door.
“Claudia.”
My mother's face drained of color.
“No.”
The voice spoke again.
“It's me.”
My mother stepped backward.
“I saw you die.”
The woman outside laughed softly.
“You saw what they wanted you to see.”
I looked at Gabriel.
He had gone pale.
He whispered one name.
May you like
“Isabel…”
Then the door handle slowly began to turn.
