Chapter 7 - THE DAYCARE DIRECTOR HAD BEEN PROTECTING LUCIA FOR MONTHS
We found Lucia before Andrés did.
That sentence is easy to write.
Living through the forty-seven minutes before I knew it was true took years off my life.
Isabel moved Rosa, Dr. Ortega, and Lucia to a church-run clinic in Coyoacán.
No digital records.
No Salcedo vehicles.
No phone until she knew they weren't followed.
When I entered the room, I didn't see Victor.
Didn't see Mateo.
Didn't see the woman who was apparently my aunt.
I saw my daughter.
Lucia was awake.
Her fever was down.
She looked exhausted and angry.
The most beautiful angry baby in Mexico.
I grabbed her.
"Baby."
She touched my face.
I cried into her hair.
Rosa cried too.
Dr. Ortega pretended not to.
Victor stood at the doorway.
Mateo behind him.
Neither approached.
Good.
This was mine.
After several minutes, I looked at Dr. Ortega.
"How is she?"
"Better."
"How much better?"
"Her temperature is almost normal. Tests suggest a viral respiratory infection complicated by dehydration. No pneumonia."
I nearly collapsed.
"Hospital?"
"I still want observation tonight."
"Here?"
"Here."
I nodded.
Everything else could wait.
Then Isabel spoke.
"Mariana."
I turned.
The daycare director looked exactly as she always did.
Practical shoes.
Dark hair.
Kind eyes.
The woman who had called me when Lucia got sick.
The woman I had trusted with my child.
"Who are you?"
She swallowed.
"Isabel Morales."
"My mother says you're her sister."
"Half sister."
"Did you know?"
"Since I was twenty."
"Did she?"
"No."
"How?"
"My mother told me before she died."
"Who was your mother?"
"Your grandfather's bookkeeper."
I laughed.
Of course.
Apparently everyone in my family had accountants and secrets instead of normal relatives.
"Why were you at Lucia's daycare?"
"Because of you."
"That is not comforting."
"I know."
"Did you arrange for Lucia to be accepted?"
"Yes."
The daycare had supposedly had a waiting list.
Lucia got a place two days after I applied.
I thought it was luck.
Nothing was luck.
"Did you know who Mateo was?"
"Yes."
I turned toward him.
He looked miserable.
"Everyone knew except me."
Nobody argued.
That made it worse.
"Did my mother tell you to watch us?"
"Yes."
"While pretending to be dead."
"Yes."
I looked at Elena.
"You don't get to call this protection anymore."
Her eyes filled.
"I know."
"No. Protection gives the protected person more safety."
My voice shook.
"You gave me ignorance."
Elena lowered her head.
"I thought ignorance was safety."
"So did Victor's father, probably."
Victor looked at me.
My mother flinched.
Good.
"Secrets are why we're here."
I pointed toward Lucia.
"Every one of you knew pieces. None of you trusted anyone enough to tell the truth. And my eight-month-old daughter is the one being hunted."
Silence.
Mateo spoke quietly.
"You're right."
I rounded on him.
"You don't get points for agreeing."
"I know."
"Stop saying you know."
He closed his mouth.
Better.
Victor's phone buzzed.
His expression changed.
"Andrés?"
He nodded.
"Captured."
"Alive?"
"Yes."
"Where?"
"One of my security teams intercepted him leaving the clinic."
"Can we trust them?"
Victor looked at me.
"That is now the first question I ask."
Progress.
Andrés was taken not to Victor's estate but to federal authorities through an attorney Victor trusted.
Evidence from Elena's records accompanied him.
No private revenge.
No disappearance.
That surprised Mateo.
"You handed him over?"
Victor looked coldly at him.
"What did you expect?"
"Your father."
"I'm not my father."
The words were simple.
But I saw how much they cost.
Then Isabel said:
"We have another problem."
I almost laughed.
"Only one?"
"Sebastián escaped."
Victor swore.
The Morales house had partially burned after the explosion.
Several boxes in the vault were damaged.
Most survived.
Sebastián and two men escaped before authorities arrived.
Teresa was safe.
But the real key was missing.
I looked at Elena.
"What?"
She checked her pocket.
Empty.
"When?"
"The tunnel."
Mateo shook his head.
"No. Sebastián never reached us."
"Then who?"
We all looked at Teresa.
She went pale.
"No."
"Tía?"
"I didn't."
"Did you have the key?"
"No."
"Did you see it?"
Teresa started crying.
"I saw Elena put it in her coat."
"Then?"
"When we were in the tunnel, someone bumped me."
"Who?"
She looked toward Mateo.
He stiffened.
"Don't."
Teresa whispered:
"Mateo."
I stared.
Mateo laughed in disbelief.
"I didn't take it."
Victor moved between us.
"Search him."
Mateo's face hardened.
"No."
"Then empty your pockets."
"Go to hell."
"Mateo."
I looked at him.
"If you didn't take it, prove it."
His expression changed.
Then he emptied his pockets.
Wallet.
Phone.
Knife.
Keys.
No brass key.
"Happy?"
"No."
My life had cured me of that emotion for the evening.
Then Lucia began fussing.
I picked her up.
The silver locket caught the light.
Elena stared.
"What?"
She stepped closer.
"May I?"
"No."
"Mariana, look at the back."
I turned it.
There was a scratch near the edge.
I had seen it before.
"What?"
"Press the star."
I did.
Nothing.
"Harder."
A tiny click.
The back opened.
Inside wasn't a photograph.
It was a wafer-thin metal plate.
Numbers etched across it.
Victor leaned closer.
Mateo stopped breathing.
"What is that?" I asked.
Elena smiled.
"The thing Sebastián actually needs."
"Not the key?"
"The key opens the physical vault."
She pointed at the plate.
"This opens the trust."
My stomach dropped.
"How?"
"Account authentication."
"And you've had this around Lucia's neck?"
Elena looked ashamed.
"I didn't put it there."
"You gave me the locket."
"Years ago."
"I put it on Lucia because it was the only thing from you I wanted her to have."
The irony almost killed me.
The one sentimental object I kept had made my daughter a target.
Then Victor looked at the numbers.
His face changed.
"What?"
"These aren't account numbers."
Elena frowned.
"What?"
"They're coordinates."
Mateo came closer.
Victor read them into his phone.
A map loaded.
The location appeared.
Outside Mexico City.
A private airfield.
Elena went pale.
"No."
"What?"
"That belonged to my father."
"What's there?"
She stared at the screen.
"The original archive."
"I thought the vault was the archive."
"Copies."
Everyone went silent.
"My father never trusted a single location."
Of course not.
"What is at the airfield?"
Elena whispered:
"The originals."
Mateo looked at Victor.
"If Sebastián gets those—"
"He can sell them."
Elena shook her head.
"No."
Her face had gone white.
"He can do worse."
"What?"
"The originals contain the names that were removed from the copies."
"Whose names?"
She looked at me.
"The people who ordered my father's death."
I stared at Victor.
"Your father?"
Elena shook her head.
"No."
"Alejandro pulled the trigger."
Her voice dropped.
"But someone else ordered him to."
Victor stopped breathing.
May you like
And for the first time, I realized Alejandro Salcedo and Gabriel Navarro might not have been the top of the story.
They might have been servants too.
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