Chapter 5 - The Missing Three Years
“Valeria…”
The voice came from the top of the staircase.
My mother grabbed my wrist.
“Don't move.”
I stared at the dark hallway above us.
The house had suddenly become too quiet.
I could hear the refrigerator humming in the kitchen.
A clock ticking somewhere behind me.
My own breathing.
Then a man's footsteps began descending the stairs.
One step.
Pause.
Another.
My mother pulled me toward the kitchen.
“Back door,” she whispered.
We moved without speaking.
I kept the silver key clenched inside my fist.
The footsteps continued behind us.
Slow.
Unhurried.
Whoever was coming down knew we were trapped.
My mother opened the kitchen door.
The alarm panel beside it flashed red.
“It's armed,” she whispered.
“Can you disable it?”
“No.”
“Why?”
“Because I don't have the code anymore.”
I looked at her.
“You live here.”
“Not really.”
“What does that mean?”
She reached beneath the counter and pulled out a small metal box.
Inside was an old phone.
She turned it on.
The screen lit up.
Twenty-three missed calls.
All from the same number.
She didn't show me the number.
“Who keeps calling?”
“My father.”
I stared at her.
“Your father is dead.”
“I know.”
The footsteps stopped.
We both froze.
Then the kitchen light switched on.
A man's voice came from the doorway.
“You always were terrible at lying, Claudia.”
My mother slowly turned.
I saw the color disappear from her face.
Mateo Salcedo stood there.
He looked exactly like the photographs.
Early fifties.
Gray at the temples.
Dark suit.
No tie.
Calm expression.
He wasn't carrying a weapon.
That somehow made him more frightening.
His eyes moved to me.
“Valeria.”
I stepped slightly in front of my mother.
“Don't come closer.”
He smiled.
“I wasn't planning to.”
My mother whispered, “How did you get inside?”
“The front door.”
“I locked it.”
“You didn't.”
I looked at my mother.
She looked confused.
Mateo's eyes dropped to my hand.
“The key.”
I closed my fingers around it.
He noticed.
Of course he did.
“Your grandmother kept that key for seventeen years.”
I felt my heart skip.
“Seventeen?”
He nodded.
“You have no idea what it opens.”
“Then tell me.”
“No.”
“Why?”
“Because Teresa wanted you to discover it yourself.”
I stared at him.
“You knew her.”
“I did.”
“You worked for my father.”
“I worked for several people.”
“Did you steal eight million pesos from my grandmother?”
His expression didn't change.
“No.”
“Did my father?”
“Yes.”
My mother closed her eyes.
I turned toward her.
“You knew.”
She whispered, “Some of it.”
Mateo stepped into the kitchen.
“I suggest you stop asking questions here.”
“Because you're afraid of being recorded?”
His eyes flicked toward the ceiling.
For the first time, he looked serious.
“Exactly.”
I looked at the smoke detector.
“Who installed it?”
“Your father.”
“Is he listening now?”
“No.”
“Then who is?”
Mateo didn't answer.
My mother did.
“Someone who has access to his old network.”
I frowned.
“My father doesn't have a network.”
Mateo laughed softly.
“Your father had a network long before you knew what the word meant.”
He walked to the table.
Then he placed a photograph in front of me.
It was old.
Three people stood outside a warehouse.
My father.
Mateo.
And another man.
I recognized him immediately.
Dr. Ricardo Mena.
The doctor whose name appeared on my grandmother's forged medical report.
My stomach dropped.
“You all knew each other.”
“Yes,” Mateo said.
“Why?”
“Because your grandmother's business was worth protecting.”
“From whom?”
“From your father.”
My mother whispered, “Mateo…”
He ignored her.
“Your grandmother discovered that Sergio had been moving money from the company.”
“How much?”
“Enough to ruin him.”
“How much?”
“More than eight million.”
I looked at the photograph.
“Then why did the transfer go to your company?”
“Because I was trying to get the money back.”
“Did you?”
“Some of it.”
“How much?”
“Six million.”
My eyes widened.
“What happened to the other two?”
Mateo looked at my mother.
She lowered her gaze.
“You know,” he said.
My mother shook her head.
“No.”
“Yes.”
I turned toward her.
“Mom?”
She didn't answer.
“Where did the other two million go?”
She looked at me.
“Your father used it.”
“For what?”
“He paid people.”
“Who?”
She swallowed.
“People who could make problems disappear.”
I felt cold.
“Problems?”
“Documents. Accounts. Witnesses.”
My voice dropped.
“People?”
My mother didn't respond.
Mateo did.
“No one was killed.”
I stared at him.
“You sound very certain.”
“I am.”
“How?”
“Because I stopped it.”
Silence filled the kitchen.
Mateo reached into his jacket and removed a folded document.
He placed it on the table.
“Your grandmother had been collecting evidence against Sergio for three years.”
“Three years?”
“Yes.”
I opened the document.
Bank transfers.
Names.
Dates.
Company registrations.
Payments to consultants.
Lawyers.
Private investigators.
And something that made me stop.
A payment to a handwriting expert.
I looked up.
“Who paid this?”
“Your father.”
“When?”
“Three years ago.”
“Why would he pay a handwriting expert?”
Mateo didn't answer.
I turned the page.
There was a handwritten note.
Study Teresa's signature.
My skin prickled.
“He planned the forgery three years ago.”
“Yes.”
“Before the will?”
“Yes.”
“Before my grandmother even signed the will?”
“Yes.”
I sat down.
Everything suddenly made sense.
My parents hadn't reacted to the inheritance.
They had anticipated it.
They had been preparing for it.
But there was one thing I couldn't understand.
“If they knew she was leaving everything to me, why did they let her make the will?”
Mateo looked at me.
“Because they didn't know about the final version.”
I stared at him.
“What do you mean?”
“Your grandmother changed it.”
“When?”
“Three days before she died.”
My heart stopped.
“That isn't what the notary said.”
“The notary only knows what he was shown.”
I stood.
“Are you saying there is another will?”
“No.”
“Then what changed?”
“An amendment.”
My mother looked at him sharply.
“You shouldn't tell her.”
“She deserves to know.”
“Not yet.”
I turned toward my mother.
“Why not?”
She didn't answer.
Mateo did.
“Because the amendment doesn't just concern the inheritance.”
“What does it concern?”
He looked directly into my eyes.
“You.”
I felt my pulse in my throat.
“What did she leave me?”
“Not money.”
“Then what?”
“A company.”
“She already left me the storage company.”
“Not that one.”
My mouth went dry.
“What company?”
Mateo leaned closer.
“The one your father thought he had destroyed.”
My mother suddenly stood.
“Stop.”
I looked at her.
“What company?”
She shook her head.
“Valeria, please.”
“What company?”
Mateo reached into his jacket again.
This time he removed a small black memory card.
“Your grandmother left this for you.”
I didn't take it.
“What's on it?”
“A recording.”
“Of what?”
“Her last meeting with your father.”
My hands began trembling.
“Why didn't she give it to me?”
“Because she knew she was going to die.”
My mother whispered, “She wasn't supposed to.”
I turned toward her.
“What?”
My mother's face collapsed.
“She wasn't supposed to die that night.”
The room went silent.
I stared at her.
“What are you saying?”
Mateo looked at Claudia.
“You never told her?”
My mother shook her head.
“I couldn't.”
“Tell me.”
She sat down slowly.
“Your grandmother was supposed to leave the residence.”
“When?”
“The morning after she died.”
I felt the air leave my lungs.
“Why?”
“She had arranged for someone to take her somewhere safe.”
“Who?”
“Me.”
I looked at Mateo.
“You were supposed to take her?”
“Yes.”
“What happened?”
He lowered his eyes.
“She called me the night before.”
“What did she say?”
“She said Sergio knew.”
“Knew what?”
“That she was leaving.”
“And?”
“He got there first.”
I stared at him.
“Did my father kill her?”
Mateo's expression hardened.
“No.”
“Then what happened?”
“Your grandmother collapsed.”
“From what?”
“Poison.”
My mother covered her mouth.
I stepped backward.
“No.”
Mateo nodded.
“The toxicology report was altered.”
“By Dr. Mena.”
“Yes.”
I remembered the forged medical report.
The missing records.
The fake examination.
Everything clicked together.
My father hadn't simply challenged the will.
He had tried to erase the truth about my grandmother's final days.
“Who poisoned her?”
Mateo didn't answer.
“Who?”
He looked at my mother.
She began crying.
I felt something break inside me.
“Mom?”
She covered her face.
“I didn't know.”
“You knew she was poisoned.”
“I knew afterward.”
“Then why didn't you tell me?”
“Because Sergio threatened you.”
“With what?”
“He said if I went to the police, you'd be next.”
My entire body went cold.
Mateo stepped closer.
“He wasn't bluffing.”
I looked at him.
“How do you know?”
“Because I was the one who intercepted the man he hired.”
“Who?”
Mateo's phone suddenly rang.
He looked at the screen.
His expression changed.
He answered.
“Hello?”
He listened.
Then said:
“No.”
A pause.
“She's with me.”
My heart stopped.
Mateo slowly looked at me.
“Who is this?”
Silence.
His face went pale.
He ended the call.
I stared at him.
“Who was it?”
He didn't answer.
“Mateo.”
He looked toward the window.
Then the front door.
Then back at me.
“Someone who shouldn't know you're here.”
My phone vibrated.
Unknown number.
One message.
You are looking for the missing three years.
Another message appeared.
Stop before you find what Teresa buried.
Then a third.
Because the person who helped her hide it is standing beside you.
I looked at my mother.
She was crying.
Mateo suddenly reached for my arm.
“Don't answer.”
But my phone rang again.
This time, the caller ID displayed a name.
Teresa Landa.
I couldn't breathe.
My grandmother had been dead for nine days.
May you like
And her phone was calling me.
I slowly reached for the answer button...
