Dolores needed to see to believe. Where is Sara now? Close, but I can’t tell you where on the phone. We don’t know who may be listening. I need you to come to San Jerónimo tomorrow to my mother’s house. I will explain everything to him there. Time is running out, Martín. There are less than 30 hours left. I know, that’s why I decided to speak out. Sara wanted to wait until she had all the legal evidence, but there is no time. If Ramiro dies, Gonzalo wins forever. And Sarah has sacrificed too much to allow that.
Dolores hung up the phone with trembling hands. If this was true, it was the most extraordinary case of his career. A woman who faked her death to protect her daughter. An innocent husband convicted of a crime that never existed. A brother willing to destroy everything out of greed. He packed a small suitcase. Tomorrow he would travel to San Jerónimo. Tomorrow I would know the whole truth. What he didn’t know was that someone had intercepted the call. In his cell, Ramiro Fuentes slept for the first time in years without nightmares.
His daughter’s words had ignited something in him, hope. But that night the dream brought back memories that he had blocked for 5 years. He saw himself on the sofa at home, drunk, about to faint. He heard voices, Sarah’s voice, first calm, then frightened, and another voice, a voice he knew well. You shouldn’t have gotten into this, Sara. I warned you, Gonzalo’s voice. Ramiro tried to move in the dream. He tried to get up to defend his wife, but her body was unresponsive.
Alcohol had paralyzed him. He heard a knock, a scream, silence. Then footsteps approaching him, one hand placing something in his, the cold of metal. When you wake up, this will be over and you will be the perfect culprit brother. Ramiro woke up drenched in sweat, screaming. The guards ran to his cell thinking he was trying to hurt himself, but Ramiro only repeated a phrase. Now I remember it. Now I remember everything. My brother was my brother. I heard his voice. He put the gun in my hands while I slept.
The younger guard looked at his partner. Do you think he’s telling the truth? The veteran shook his head. Everyone tells the truth when the end is near, but that doesn’t matter anymore. It mattered more than she imagined. At the Santa Maria home, Carmela watched Salome with concern. Since she stopped talking, the girl communicated only through drawings. She drew obsessively, filling pages and pages with the same image. Carmela gave her a new box of crayons.
Can you show me what you see in your dreams, little one? Salome took the crayons and began to draw. This time the drawing was different, more detailed, as if 5 years of maturity allowed her to express what she couldn’t before. She drew the house, the living room, a figure on the floor, another standing in a blue shirt, but she added something new, a half-open door in the background and behind her another small figure, a girl with yellow hair, herself observing everything. And in the corner of the drawing, something Carmela didn’t expect, a hand sticking out of the window of the house, as if someone was helping the figure on the ground escape.
“What is this, Salomé?” Carmela asked, pointing to her hand. The girl wrote a single word under the drawing. Mom. Carmela felt the air escape from her lungs. Your mom escaped. Your mom is alive. Salome looked at her with those huge eyes that seemed to carry the weight of the world. She nodded slowly. Then she wrote another hidden word and one last, waiting. Gonzalo Fuentes arrived at the Santa María home 2 hours later, accompanied by two men in dark suits. He was carrying documents that supposedly gave him back temporary custody of Salomé.
Order of the third family court, he announced, handing the papers to Carmela. Signed by Judge Aurelio Sánchez. I’ve come to take my niece. Carmela examined the documents. They looked legitimate, but something inside her was screaming at her not to hand over that girl. I need to verify this with the appropriate authorities, she said. I can’t hand over a minor without confirmation. The confirmation is on those papers, ma’am. Don’t waste my time. It’s not a matter of time, it’s a matter of protocol.
Gonzalo took a step forward, invading Carmela’s space. Listen to me, that girl is of my blood. Her father is going to be executed tomorrow. She needs family, not a charity home full of orphans. What that girl needs is protection, not more violence. Violence is accusing me of something. Carmela looked him straight in the eyes. The bruises Salome arrived with 6 months ago accuse me stronger than any word of mine. Gonzalo’s face hardened.
I can make this place close. I can make you lose your license. I can make you never work with children again. I just need a call. What Gonzalo didn’t know was that Carmela had activated the security recording system as soon as she saw him arrive. Every word, every threat was recorded. Go away, Mr. Fuentes. I’m not going to give you that girl and if you threaten me again, I’ll use everything I have to destroy it.” Gonzalo smiled coldly. I’ll come back and when I do I won’t be so kind.
Three hours later, Gonzalo returned. This time he didn’t knock on the door. His men broke it down. Carmela was ready. She had called the police after the first visit, but they still hadn’t arrived. When she heard the door knock, she took Salome by the hand and led her to the security room she had prepared for emergencies. Stay here, little one, no matter what, don’t leave until I come for you. Salome nodded with her eyes full of terror. Carmela went out to confront Gonzalo.
The two men held her down while he searched each room looking for the girl. Where is he?, Gonzalo shouted. Where did you hide it? Far from you, where you will never find it. Gonzalo approached Carmela and grabbed her by the neck. I’m going to ask you just one more time. Where is Salome? Go to hell. At that moment, police sirens filled the air. Someone had seen the men break down the door and called 911. The agents entered with weapons drawn.
To the ground, everyone to the ground. Gonzalo let go of Carmela trying to regain his composure as a respectable man. Official, this is a misunderstanding. I only came to look for my niece. We have a recording of his previous visit, the officer said. Threats, attempted theft of minor trespass. You have the right to remain silent. As Gonzalo was handcuffed, Carmela smiled. The security footage had captured everything. Both visits, the threats, the violence. Gonzalo Fuentes had just destroyed his own freedom. The news of Gonzalo’s arrest reached the ears of Judge Aurelio Sánchez in less than an hour.
Its network of informants was efficient. “He’s an idiot,” he muttered as he dialed a number on his private phone. “I told him to be discreet. I told him to be patient.” The voice on the other end answered calmly. “What do we do now? Gonzalo is going to speak. As soon as they pressure him, he will negotiate. He’s a coward. It always was. It can incriminate you. He knows too much. We have to activate plan B. Aurelio walked to his safe and opened it. Inside were dozens of storage devices, videos, recordings, documents he had collected over decades, his life insurance, evidence of corruption of politicians, businessmen, judges.
If he fell, many would fall with him. “I’m going to make some calls,” Gonzalo said. He is not going to spend a night in prison, but there is another problem. The worst lawyer, the gardener Martín Reyes. We intercepted a call last night. He is alive and in contact with Dolores Medina. Where is it? St. Jerome, at his mother’s house. The lawyer is going there today. Do you want us to intercept them? Aurelio thought about it for a moment. No, let it come, let them meet and when we have everyone together, we will solve all the problems at once.
It was a clean, efficient plan. But Aurelio had underestimated his enemies and that would cost him everything. Dolores arrived in San Jerónimo at noon. The journey had been long and his body protested with pains that he preferred to ignore. Her doctor had warned her that stress could kill her, but dying seeking justice was preferable to living without having found it. Consuelo Reyes’ house was the same as before, but this time the old woman was waiting for her at the door with a nervous expression.
“My son is inside,” she whispered. “But he is not the only one. There’s someone else who wants to see it.” Dolores entered. In the small room, sitting on an old chair was Martín Reyes. He was a man in his 40s, thin, with a unkempt beard and eyes that had seen too much. “Mrs. Medina,” he said, standing up. “Thank you for coming. Martín has a lot to explain, starting with how it is possible that Sara Fuentes is alive. Martin looked at the door of the back room. I don’t have to explain it.
She can do it better than me. The door opened. A woman appeared in the doorway. She was thin, emaciated, with short hair and white locks that she didn’t have before. But her eyes were unmistakable, the same eyes that Dolores had seen in the photographs in the file. Sara Fuentes was alive. “Mrs. Medina,” Sara said hoarsely. “I’ve been waiting for this moment for 5 years. 5 years in hiding, watching my husband rot in prison for something he didn’t do. 5 years separated from my daughter to protect her.
I can’t wait any longer. Dolores slumped into a chair. Her legs didn’t support her. Why? Why so long? Why didn’t he speak sooner? Because I didn’t have enough evidence. But now I have them and there are less than 24 hours left to save Ramiro. Sara sat down in front of Dolores and began to speak. His voice trembled. But his words were firm. The night Gonzalo attacked me, I had confronted my husband. I told him that his brother had forged his parents’ will.
Ramiro didn’t believe me. We argue. He drank himself to sleep on the couch. What happened next? Gonzalo arrived an hour later. He had a key to the house. Ramiro never took it off. He found me in the kitchen. I tried to reason with him, but he was furious. It hit me. I fell. Everything went dark. How did he survive? Sara looked at Martín, who continued the story. I had returned to the house that night. I forgot my gardening tools. I saw Gonzalo’s car outside and something seemed strange to me.
I walked in through the back door and found Sara on the floor. He was still breathing. Gonzalo was in the living room putting the gun in Ramiro’s sleeping hands. He didn’t see it. I was too focused. I pulled Sara out of the kitchen window. I took her to my mother’s house. That same night I drove 4 hours non-stop. When we arrived, she woke up. Sara took the floor again. Martín saved my life, but when I found out that Ramiro had been arrested, I wanted to return immediately.
Martín prevented me. Why? Because Gonzalo had contacts in the police, in the prosecutor’s office. If I was found alive, I would have been really eliminated. and Salome too. Gonzalo had seen her that night hiding in the hallway. I knew I was a witness. If I spoke, my daughter paid the consequences. Dolores understood the terrible sacrifice of this woman. She let her husband be convicted to protect her daughter. Every day of these 5 years has been hell, Mrs. Medina, but today it ends.
I have evidence and we’re going to use it. Sara took an old phone out of her pocket, an old model that almost no one used anymore. The night of the attack I was recording, he explained. I had begun to document everything. Gonzalo’s threats, his calls, his visits. I was afraid that something would happen to me and I wanted to leave evidence. What exactly did you record? Sara pressed Play. The recording was audio, not video, but it was clear. Gonzalo’s voice filled the room. Did you think you could threaten me, Sara?
Did you think you could destroy everything I’ve built? Aurelio told me to give you one last chance, but you chose the hard way. Sara’s voice frightened but firm. Gonzalo, please think of Ramiro. He’s your brother. Ramiro is a loser. It always was. He must have inherited nothing. Everything was for me. For me. And you’re not going to ruin it. Then a knock, a scream and the recording ended. Dolores felt her heart beating in her ears. This is a confession.
and mentions Aurelio. There is more, Sara said. The phone kept recording after I lost consciousness. He caught Gonzalo calling Aurelio. He pressed Play again. It’s done, but there’s a problem. The little girl saw everything. She was hiding in the hallway. Aurelio’s voice. Take care of the husband as we planned. I take care of the girl. A word of her and she is an orphan of both parents. Dolores had the proof she needed. Gonzalo and Aurelio, condemned by their own voices.
Why did you wait 5 years to use this? Because I needed Salome to be safe. And because I needed someone to believe me. Someone with the power to take this to court. someone like you at the Santa María home, Salomé was drawing, but this time they were not scenes of terror. He drew a small house, a bright sun and three figures holding hands, a man, a woman and a girl. Carmela watched her from the doorway. After everything that had happened, after Gonzalo’s attempt to take her, the girl appeared calmer, as if she knew that something was changing.
“Can I sit with you?” asked Carmela. Salome nodded. Carmela looked at the drawing. “Is that your family?” Salome nodded again. The strangers. The girl stopped drawing. he looked at Carmela with those huge eyes that seemed to see beyond the walls. And then, for the first time in days, he spoke. “My mom told me to keep it a secret,” she whispered. He told me that when the time came I would know what to do. The time has come, Mrs. Carmela. I told Dad that Mom is alive.
I told her that she visits me in my dreams and tells me to be strong. Carmela felt tears fall down her cheeks. Is your mother alive, little one? Yes, and it’s going to save us all. At that moment, Carmela’s phone rang. It was Dolores, Medina. Carmela, listen to me well. Sara Fuentes is alive. I have proof that Ramiro is innocent. We are on our way to court. I need you to keep Salome safe until it’s all over. How long? Less than 24 hours.
If everything goes well, tomorrow Ramiro will be free and Salomé will have a family again. Dolores. Sara and Martin traveled all night back to the city. Time was his worst enemy. There were less than 18 hours left for Ramiro’s execution. They arrived at Dolores’ house at dawn. Carlos was waiting for them with news. Gonzalo is in pretrial detention, but his lawyers are moving heaven and earth to get him out. Aurelio has activated all his connections. If we don’t act quickly, they’re going to bury this.
They are not going to bury anything, said Dolores. We have Sara’s recordings, we have Martín’s testimony, we have Salomé’s drawing analyzed by a forensic psychologist, we have the false will and we have the alleged victim, alive and willing to testify. “Who do we present all this to?” asked Carlos. Aurelio is a judge, he has contacts in all the courts. Not in all of them, Dolores said. There is a judge that Aurelio has not been able to corrupt. Judge Fernanda Torres is of the old school of integrity and owes me a favor from 20 years ago.
