Chapter 6 - THE COAT SHE LEFT BEHIND
Nobody spoke.
I stared at the photograph.
My wife was smiling.
Elena stood beside her.
And I was in the background.
I didn't remember the photograph being taken.
Patricia looked terrified.
“Who made the accident happen?”
She shook her head.
“I don't know.”
“That isn't good enough.”
“I don't know who gave the final order.”
“Then what do you know?”
Patricia looked at Rosa.
Rosa nodded slowly.
Patricia finally sat down.
“The night your wife died, she was supposed to leave town.”
“For where?”
“To meet Elena.”
“Why?”
“Because Elena had found the original adoption records.”
“And?”
“Those records contained something else.”
I waited.
“A financial ledger.”
My jaw tightened.
“What kind of ledger?”
“Payments.”
“To whom?”
“People who had been paid to control your wife's life.”
The answer made no sense.
“Why would anyone care about that now?”
Patricia looked at me.
“Because your wife's family wasn't only hiding a child.”
She paused.
“They were hiding money.”
Rosa closed her eyes.
“Patricia.”
“What?”
“You promised.”
“I promised to protect him.”
“You're making it worse.”
“I've been making it worse for years.”
I looked at Rosa.
“What money?”
Rosa finally spoke.
“Your wife's grandfather created a trust.”
“For Elena?”
“No.”
She looked at me.
“For your daughters.”
My heart stopped.
“What?”
“The trust was supposed to protect Martina and Daniela.”
“From what?”
“From anyone who married into the family for financial reasons.”
I thought of Patricia.
She lowered her head.
“That's why you targeted Rosa.”
Patricia nodded.
“If he discovered the trust, he would have questioned everything.”
“What exactly did you want?”
Patricia's voice broke.
“I wanted enough time to make him trust me.”
“And then?”
She looked at the girls' drawing on the desk.
“I wanted to marry him before the trust was fully activated.”
I stared at her.
“So this was about money.”
“Not only money.”
“What else?”
Patricia swallowed.
“I was afraid of losing everything.”
“That doesn't excuse what you did to my daughters.”
“I know.”
“No, you don't.”
She looked toward the hallway.
“I know now.”
A small sound came from outside.
Martina.
She was crying.
I opened the door.
She stood there holding her stuffed rabbit.
“Dad?”
I knelt.
“What happened?”
“She said I was bad.”
“Who?”
“Patricia.”
Patricia closed her eyes.
Martina looked at her.
“Am I bad?”
Patricia couldn't answer.
I pulled my daughter into my arms.
“No.”
Martina cried against my shoulder.
“I tried to be good.”
“You don't have to earn love by being good.”
Daniela appeared beside her.
“She told us if we told you, you'd send Rosa away.”
I looked at Patricia.
“That was a lie.”
Patricia nodded.
“Yes.”
For the first time, she looked genuinely ashamed.
But I still needed the truth.
I turned back to the coat.
“Where did this come from?”
Rosa stared at it.
“Your wife wore it the night she died.”
“You said you didn't know what happened.”
“I know what happened afterward.”
“What happened afterward?”
Rosa looked toward the girls.
“I found her car.”
My heart tightened.
“You were there?”
“Yes.”
“Why didn't you tell me?”
“Because there was someone else there.”
“Who?”
“A man.”
“What man?”
“I never saw his face.”
Patricia suddenly stood.
“That isn't true.”
Rosa turned.
“You weren't there.”
“I was.”
“You came later.”
“I saw him.”
I stepped toward Patricia.
“Who?”
She hesitated.
Then she said a name.
My security chief Marcus immediately looked up.
“Sir.”
“What?”
“That name belongs to one of the trustees of your wife's family estate.”
I felt cold.
“Are you sure?”
“Yes.”
Patricia looked at him.
“He's the reason Elena disappeared again.”
I stared.
“Where is Elena?”
Patricia shook her head.
“She left before I could stop her.”
“Where?”
“I don't know.”
Then Marcus's phone vibrated.
He looked at the screen.
His face changed.
“Sir.”
“What?”
“We just found something in the garage.”
We followed him.
Behind a storage cabinet was a small metal case.
Inside were several photographs.
One showed my wife leaving the house.
Another showed Elena arriving at the same café.
The third showed a man standing beside my wife's car.
His face was visible.
Marcus enlarged it.
I recognized him immediately.
He had attended my wife's funeral.
He had offered me condolences.
He had stood beside Patricia.
He had even shaken my hand.
I whispered his name.
Patricia stepped backward.
“No.”
Marcus looked at her.
“Do you know him?”
Patricia's face went pale.
“He was my mother's brother.”
My stomach dropped.
Then Marcus turned over the final photograph.
On the back was a handwritten date.
Tomorrow.
May you like
And beneath it:
Take the girls. The father is already suspicious.
