Chapter 12 - Sector Twelve
I did not know whether Camila was telling the truth.
But she believed it.
That mattered.
“How do you know?”
“My father.”
“Esteban?”
“Yes.”
“He saw what happened?”
“Part of it.”
“What part?”
Camila’s face tightened.
“The night Isabel died, my father was supposed to drive her.”
“He didn’t.”
“Why?”
“Someone called him away.”
“Who?”
“He never knew.”
“When he returned, another driver had taken his place.”
My heart stopped.
“My mother got into a car with someone else.”
“Yes.”
“And your father?”
“He followed.”
“What did he see?”
Camila swallowed.
“The car crash.”
A cold wave moved through me.
“He saw it happen?”
“He saw the car lose control.”
“He reached it before police.”
“Was my mother alive?”
Camila hesitated.
That hesitation nearly broke me.
“Was she alive?”
“Yes.”
My knees weakened.
I gripped the table.
“For how long?”
“I don’t know.”
“What did she say?”
“My father never told me everything.”
“Why?”
“Because he thinks Arturo will kill him.”
“My father is not a murderer.”
“I didn’t say he was.”
“You imply it constantly.”
Camila looked at me.
“You grew up inside a protected house with people who loved you.”
“I grew up wondering why my mother disappeared.”
“Don’t tell me what fear is supposed to look like.”
I stared back.
“My mother died.”
“I know.”
“And instead of finding the truth, you slept with my husband and tried to destroy my career.”
Her face hardened.
“I did what I thought would get me close to the people hiding the truth.”
“You enjoyed humiliating me in that restaurant.”
Silence.
“Yes.”
At least she admitted it.
“That had nothing to do with your mother.”
“No.”
“That was cruelty.”
“Yes.”
“And if you expect me to forget it because you have a tragic story, you don’t understand me at all.”
Camila looked down.
“I don’t expect forgiveness.”
“Good.”
I reached for the envelope.
This time she let me.
My fingers trembled.
The paper had aged.
My name was written exactly the way I remembered.
I opened it.
Inside was a letter.
My sweet Valeria,
If this reaches you, then something has gone wrong.
Your father will try to protect you.
He will believe silence is love.
Do not hate him for that, but do not let him decide what truth you can survive.
There are people around our family who have confused loyalty with ownership.
They believe companies, marriages, children, and even lives can be moved like pieces on a board.
Do not become one of them.
If you ever have to choose between protecting the family name and protecting the truth, choose the truth.
Always.
I pressed the letter to the table.
My vision blurred.
Twenty-two years.
My mother had known she might die.
She had left instructions for a fourteen-year-old daughter who never received them.
Camila quietly turned away.
I read the final lines.
Federico knows where the copies are.
Lucía has the originals.
Esteban knows where I am going.
And Mariana must never know that we discovered her real name.
My eyes snapped upward.
Mariana.
M.C.
“Mariana Cruz.”
Camila nodded.
“Not her real name.”
“What is?”
“I don’t know.”
“Your father?”
“He claims he doesn’t either.”
I looked at the letter again.
Mariana must never know.
The woman who manipulated Beatriz.
The woman who may have ordered my mother’s death.
“How is Mariana connected to Ricardo?”
“She recruited his brother first.”
“The older brother?”
“Yes.”
“What happened to him?”
“Dead.”
“When?”
“Two years after Isabel.”
“Cause?”
“Suicide.”
“Was it?”
Camila looked at me.
“You already know the answer.”
A sound came from outside.
Metal scraping.
Camila froze.
“That isn’t your security?”
I touched the transmitter.
“Gabriel?”
No answer.
My stomach dropped.
“Gabriel.”
Static.
Camila grabbed the box.
The warehouse lights went out.
Darkness swallowed us.
A vehicle engine roared outside.
Then another.
Camila whispered.
“They found us.”
“Who?”
She grabbed my wrist.
“The reason I told you to come alone.”
We ran.
A side door burst open behind us.
Footsteps.
Men.
Camila pulled me through a storage corridor.
A gunshot cracked somewhere behind us.
I ducked.
Glass shattered.
Another shot.
“Move.”
Camila shoved the blue box into my arms.
We reached an exterior door.
Locked.
She cursed.
Footsteps approached.
Then the door exploded inward.
I screamed.
A man grabbed me.
I swung the metal box.
He caught my wrist.
“Valeria.”
Alejandro.
I stared at him.
Behind him stood Gabriel and two security officers.
“What are you doing here?”
“Saving you.”
Gunfire erupted inside.
Gabriel pulled us behind an armored SUV.
“Get down.”
Camila climbed in beside me.
Another vehicle sped from the far side of the warehouse.
Gabriel pointed.
“Stop that car.”
Our second SUV accelerated.
But the fleeing vehicle disappeared between buildings.
Alejandro slammed the door.
“Who was that?”
Camila was shaking.
“I don’t know.”
Then her phone rang.
Unknown number.
She answered.
A distorted voice spoke through the speaker.
“Sector Twelve stays closed.”
Camila’s face drained.
The voice continued.
“Or next time, neither daughter leaves alive.”
The call ended.
I stared at her.
Neither daughter.
The person on the phone knew exactly who we were.
Isabel Mendoza’s daughter.
Lucía Serrano’s daughter.
May you like
Our mothers had tried to expose the same secret.
Now, twenty-two years later, Camila and I had inherited their war.
