Chapter 7 - THE BOY SHE WAS SAVING
“The one your wife was trying to save.”
Marisol's words stayed in the room long after she said them.
I looked at her.
“Who was he?”
She didn't answer immediately.
Sofia tugged my sleeve.
“Daddy?”
I knelt.
“Go upstairs with Valeria.”
“But—”
“Please.”
She looked at my face.
Something in it must have frightened her because she nodded.
Valeria took her hand.
They disappeared upstairs.
I waited until their footsteps faded.
Then I turned to Marisol.
“Now.”
She sighed.
“His name was Daniel.”
“Daniel who?”
“Daniel Reyes.”
The name meant nothing.
“What did my wife know about him?”
“He was twelve.”
“Where did she meet him?”
“At one of the charity shelters.”
I frowned.
“Why was she trying to save him?”
“Because he knew something.”
“About the money?”
“Yes.”
“What?”
“He knew who was taking it.”
I looked at Chloe.
She was silent.
“You knew about Daniel.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because I interviewed him.”
“When?”
“Two weeks before your wife died.”
“What did he tell you?”
Chloe's eyes lowered.
“He said a man from your company came to the shelter every month.”
“Who?”
“He didn't know his name.”
“What did he look like?”
“Gray hair.”
I immediately thought of my father.
But Chloe shook her head.
“Not your father.”
“Then who?”
“He said the man wore a silver watch.”
My hand tightened around my wife's watch.
“Like this?”
“No.”
She pointed to the engraving.
“This one belonged to your wife.”
“Then what?”
“Daniel said the man wore a black watch with a gold face.”
Marisol suddenly looked at me.
“Your father's accountant.”
Nathan Cole.
Everything connected.
“Where is Daniel now?”
Marisol hesitated.
“He disappeared.”
“When?”
“After your wife's death.”
“Why?”
“We don't know.”
I looked at Hector.
“Find him.”
“I'll start.”
“No.”
I looked at Chloe.
“You said you interviewed him.”
“Yes.”
“Where?”
“At the shelter.”
“Which one?”
She named it.
Hector immediately recognized it.
“That shelter closed three years ago.”
“Records?”
“Destroyed in a flood.”
“Convenient.”
Chloe said,
“Not destroyed.”
I looked at her.
“What?”
“The physical records were.”
She reached into her purse.
“I kept copies.”
She handed me a folder.
Inside were photographs of Daniel.
A thin boy with dark hair.
A scar over his eyebrow.
And one photograph of him holding a small wooden horse.
On the back, my wife's handwriting.
He trusts no one except Marisol.
I looked at Marisol.
“Why?”
“Because I found him.”
“You?”
“Yes.”
“When?”
“After your wife first met him.”
“Why did he trust you?”
“Because I listened.”
Her voice broke slightly.
“He was afraid of being sent away.”
“Why?”
“His father was dead.”
“His mother?”
“Missing.”
I stared at the photograph.
“How did he know Nathan?”
“He cleaned offices near the company.”
“So he saw him.”
“Yes.”
“And what did he see?”
Marisol looked toward the stairs.
“He saw Nathan meeting someone.”
“Who?”
“A woman.”
“Who?”
Marisol looked at Chloe.
Chloe shook her head.
“Don't.”
I turned.
“Don't what?”
“Don't believe the next thing she tells you.”
Marisol's face hardened.
“Why?”
“Because she wasn't there.”
“I was.”
“No.”
Marisol stood.
“You arrived after.”
Chloe stepped closer.
“You think you know everything because your wife trusted you.”
“I knew her longer than you.”
“And yet she never told you about Daniel.”
Silence.
That hurt because it was true.
My wife had kept secrets from me.
Not because she didn't love me.
Because she believed secrets could protect our family.
I looked at Chloe.
“What aren't you telling me?”
She finally said,
“Daniel's mother.”
“What about her?”
“She worked for your company.”
“Name?”
“Isabel Reyes.”
I froze.
I knew that name.
She had been one of our accounting assistants.
She had been fired for stealing.
Or so I had been told.
“Where is she?”
“Dead.”
“How?”
“Suicide.”
I looked at Marisol.
She shook her head.
“She didn't kill herself.”
My pulse quickened.
“How do you know?”
“She left Daniel a note.”
“What did it say?”
Marisol's eyes filled.
“She said, If they tell you I chose this, don't believe them.”
I felt cold.
“Who are they?”
“We never found out.”
Hector returned.
“Boss.”
“What?”
“I found Daniel.”
Every person in the room froze.
“Where?”
“Santa Barbara.”
“The same place as the driver?”
Hector nodded.
“They're in the same facility.”
My skin prickled.
“Take me there.”
We left immediately.
The drive was silent.
Halfway there, my phone buzzed.
A message from Chloe.
I looked at her.
She was sitting in another car behind us.
The message contained a photograph.
Daniel.
Older now.
Standing outside a hospital.
Beside him was the man from my wife's photograph.
The man everyone thought was dead.
Nathan Cole.
Under the photograph were five words.
He's alive because Daniel is.
I called Hector.
“Turn around.”
“Boss?”
“Back to the estate.”
“Why?”
“Because the facility is a trap.”
We turned.
Twenty minutes later, another message arrived.
This time from an unknown number.
You finally understand.
Then another.
But you're still protecting the wrong person.
I looked at Chloe's car.
She was no longer behind us.
I called her.
No answer.
We returned to the estate.
Security was waiting.
No breach.
No missing personnel.
Everything appeared normal.
Then Sofia ran to me.
“Daddy!”
I hugged her.
“Where's Valeria?”
She pointed upstairs.
“She said she was going to get Mommy's box.”
My heart stopped.
“What box?”
“The blue one.”
I ran.
Valeria's bedroom door was open.
She was standing beside the cedar chest.
The lid was raised.
She held an old photograph.
“Daddy?”
I approached slowly.
“What happened?”
“I found this.”
She handed it to me.
The photograph showed my wife holding baby Valeria.
Behind her stood another woman.
Isabel Reyes.
And beside Isabel stood a little boy.
Daniel.
But the date was twelve years before my wife died.
I stared at the photograph.
Daniel had been connected to my family long before the charity.
Long before Nathan.
Long before Chloe.
Then I noticed something written on the back.
Alexander doesn't know yet.
My blood turned cold.
“Who wrote this?”
Valeria shook her head.
“It was already there.”
Hector entered.
He looked at the photograph.
Then at me.
“Boss…”
“What?”
He pointed to the corner.
There was another person reflected in the glass behind my wife.
A man.
Wearing a black watch with a gold face.
Nathan.
But the photograph had been taken twelve years earlier.
Before Nathan ever worked for my company.
I looked at Marisol.
She whispered,
“Your wife wasn't investigating Nathan.”
“Then who was she investigating?”
Marisol's eyes filled with fear.
“Your father.”
I stared at her.
“But you said my father wasn't responsible.”
“He wasn't.”
“Then why investigate him?”
Marisol looked at the photograph.
“Because he had been protecting a secret.”
“What secret?”
She took a breath.
“Daniel wasn't a charity child.”
She pointed to the photograph.
“He was family.”
My blood went cold.
Then Sofia's voice came from the doorway.
“Daddy…”
May you like
She was holding the red bracelet.
“Mommy said Daniel was my brother.”
