Chapter 2 - The Room I Buried
I ran upstairs without thinking.
Valeria followed behind me.
The hallway seemed longer than I remembered.
For three years, I had avoided that door.
I had walked past it every day.
I had refused to look at it.
Now it stood open by several inches.
I stopped.
Valeria stopped behind me.
Neither of us spoke.
I pushed the door open.
The smell was exactly the same.
Lavender.
Mariana’s perfume.
A faint trace of the children's shampoo Sofía had used.
The room looked frozen in time.
A small bed.
A white bookshelf.
A stuffed rabbit.
A pink piano stool.
Drawings taped to the wall.
A tiny pair of shoes beneath the bed.
I felt something break inside me.
I had told myself I was ready.
I wasn't.
Valeria stood at the doorway.
“Should I leave?”
I shook my head.
“No.”
I stepped inside.
Dust covered everything, but not as much as it should have.
That was the first thing I noticed.
The second was the wardrobe.
It had been moved.
Only a few centimeters.
I approached it.
“Who has been in here?”
Valeria shook her head.
“I don’t know.”
I pulled it forward.
Behind it was a narrow mark on the wall.
A scratch.
Fresh.
I touched it.
Someone had recently moved the wardrobe.
I called security.
My chief of security, Daniel Ortega, arrived within minutes.
He inspected the room.
“No signs of forced entry.”
“Then someone had a key.”
Daniel looked at me.
“You’re sure no one else has access?”
I thought about Mauricio.
Then I remembered something.
Three years earlier, after Mariana’s funeral, Mauricio had offered to handle the insurance paperwork.
He had spent hours in my house.
At the time, I had been too broken to care.
“Check the locks,” I said.
Daniel did.
Then he found something inside the bedroom closet.
A small envelope.
My name was written on it.
ALEJANDRO.
I opened it.
Inside was a single photograph.
Mariana was standing beside a younger woman.
The photograph had been taken outside a hospital.
The woman looked familiar.
I stared.
Valeria stepped closer.
“That’s my grandmother.”
I looked at her.
“What?”
She pointed.
“The woman beside your wife.”
My hands began shaking.
I turned the photograph over.
On the back was a date.
Three years and six months earlier.
Six months before the accident.
There was also a sentence.
If anything happens to me, find Teresa.
I stared at the words.
Mariana had never told me.
Why would she hide something like this?
Valeria looked terrified.
“My grandmother never told me she knew your wife.”
“Does she still have that key?”
“Yes.”
“Then we’re going to see her.”
Before we could leave, Daniel entered.
“Sir.”
“What?”
“There’s something else.”
He held out a tiny metal object.
A broken button.
Dark blue.
I recognized it.
Mauricio always wore dark suits.
But that wasn’t enough.
Then Daniel added:
“This was found underneath the bed.”
I took it.
A sharp memory flashed through my mind.
Mauricio had been in Sofía’s room the week before the accident.
He had told me he was looking for Mariana.
I had never questioned it.
Now I did.
That evening, I called Mauricio.
He answered immediately.
“Finally.”
“Why have you been asking me to sell the house?”
Silence.
Then a laugh.
“You're grieving again.”
“Answer me.”
“The house is expensive to maintain.”
“You were inside Sofía’s room.”
Another silence.
“I don't know what you're talking about.”
“I found your button.”
His breathing changed.
Only slightly.
But I heard it.
“You should stop digging into the past, Alejandro.”
The line went dead.
I stared at the phone.
Valeria had heard everything.
“What does he know?”
“I don’t know.”
She looked at the photograph.
“My grandmother does.”
We drove to Teresa’s apartment that night.
She was waiting at the door before we knocked.
The old woman looked at me.
Then she looked at Valeria.
Then at the photograph in my hand.
Her face went white.
“You opened the room.”
It wasn't a question.
“Yes.”
Teresa closed her eyes.
“Then he knows.”
“Who?”
She gripped Valeria’s wrist.
“Your uncle.”
I felt my blood run cold.
“My brother-in-law?”
Teresa nodded.
“He has been looking for something for three years.”
“What?”
She looked directly at me.
“The truth about what happened that night.”
Then someone knocked on the apartment door.
Three slow knocks.
Teresa’s face turned terrified.
May you like
She whispered one word.
“Run.”
