Chapter 5 - The Hospital Photograph
I stared at the photograph until my eyes hurt.
Sofía was lying in a hospital bed.
She looked tiny.
Fragile.
Alive.
The timestamp was clear.
She had been photographed three hours before the official time of her death.
“Who took this?” I whispered.
Valeria didn't answer.
Daniel looked at me.
“We need to find the original hospital records.”
I nodded.
We drove to the hospital where Sofía had died.
The old records department was nearly empty.
A nurse remembered Mariana.
She remembered Sofía.
She remembered me.
But when we asked for the medical records, the file was incomplete.
Several pages were missing.
“Who removed them?”
The nurse shook her head.
“I don't know.”
I showed her the photograph.
Her expression changed.
“That room.”
“What about it?”
“That wasn't Sofía's assigned room.”
I froze.
“What?”
“She was moved.”
“Why?”
The nurse hesitated.
“Someone requested it.”
“Who?”
She checked the archive.
Then looked at me.
“Dr. Esteban Morales.”
I didn't know the name.
Valeria did.
“My grandmother mentioned him.”
We found Dr. Morales living outside Monterrey.
He agreed to meet us.
He was older now.
His hands trembled.
“I knew Mariana,” he said.
“What happened to my daughter?”
He looked at me.
“She survived the crash.”
The room went silent.
“What?”
“She arrived alive.”
I couldn't speak.
“She had injuries,” he continued, “but she was conscious.”
“Then why did the report say she died?”
“Because someone ordered her records changed.”
“Who?”
Dr. Morales looked at Valeria.
Then at me.
“Mauricio.”
My chest tightened.
“But you signed the death certificate.”
“I was threatened.”
“By him?”
“No.”
The doctor swallowed.
“By someone more powerful.”
“Who?”
He opened a drawer.
Inside was a small cassette recorder.
“Mariana gave me this.”
I pressed play.
Her voice filled the room.
“If something happens to me, protect Sofía.”
Then another voice.
A man's.
Mauricio.
“You should have stayed out of this.”
The recording ended.
I stared at the machine.
“Where is the rest?”
Dr. Morales looked toward the door.
“Someone took it.”
“Who?”
“The woman.”
“What woman?”
“The woman who came to the hospital that night.”
Valeria suddenly became pale.
“What did she look like?”
“Dark hair. Elegant clothes. She said she was family.”
“Did she give you her name?”
The doctor nodded.
“Clara.”
I looked at Valeria.
She seemed frightened.
“My grandmother knows a Clara.”
“Who is she?”
Valeria shook her head.
“I don't know.”
Then Dr. Morales gave us another piece of information.
“She wasn't alone.”
“Who was with her?”
“A little girl.”
I felt the world stop.
“Sofía?”
“No.”
He looked at Valeria.
“A little girl who looked almost exactly like her.”
Valeria covered her mouth.
“That’s impossible.”
Dr. Morales opened a second file.
Inside was a photograph.
Two little girls.
Same age.
Same eyes.
Same smile.
One was Sofía.
The other was unknown.
On the back was written:
Sisters.
I looked at Valeria.
“What does this mean?”
Before she could answer, the hospital lights went out.
The emergency lights flickered red.
Then someone locked the door from the outside.
May you like
And a man's voice came through the darkness.
“Now you know too much.”
