Chương 7
“And?”
“Nothing.”
Lucy touched her wrist.
A small scar crossed the skin there.
Mariana noticed it.
She had noticed it earlier but had not asked.
“What happened?”
Lucy covered it instinctively.
“An accident.”
Mariana knew immediately it was not the whole answer.
“What kind of accident?”
Lucy looked toward Alejandro.
He looked back at her.
Neither spoke.
Mariana felt the old frustration return.
“Stop doing that.”
“Doing what?” Alejandro asked.
“Looking at each other like you are deciding how much truth I can handle.”
Neither of them answered.
“Say it.”
Lucy took a breath.
“The night Clara disappeared, someone came looking for her.”
Mariana went still.
“Who?”
“I don’t know.”
“You just said someone.”
“I saw a car.”
“That is not a person.”
“No.”
Lucy’s voice dropped.
“But it was enough.”
“What happened?”
Lucy looked at her hands.
“Clara told me to take you and leave.”
Mariana’s heartbeat changed.
“You took me?”
Lucy nodded.
“For one night.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means Clara came back.”
Mariana stared.
“She came back?”
“Yes.”
“When?”
“The next morning.”
“Then why don’t I remember?”
Lucy’s face softened.
“Because you were too young.”
Mariana looked down.
Of course.
Another piece of her life existed somewhere she could never access.
“She held you,” Lucy whispered.
“She cried.”
Mariana closed her eyes.
The image was impossible.
But suddenly it felt real.
A woman she barely remembered.
A voice she had spent decades trying to forget because remembering hurt too much.
“What did she say?”
Lucy looked at her.
“She said she was sorry.”
Mariana’s throat tightened.
“For leaving?”
Lucy shook her head.
“No.”
A pause.
“For coming back too late.”
The sentence stayed there.
Mariana looked away.
She did not want Lucy to see how much it affected her.
“What happened after?”
Lucy’s expression became heavy.
“Clara gave me the key.”
“The one on the counter?”
“Yes.”
“She knew about it?”
“Yes.”
“What does it open?”
Lucy looked at Alejandro.
“I never found out.”
Mariana frowned.
“You carried it for thirty-six years and never tried it?”
Lucy shook her head.
“She made me promise.”
“Why?”
“Because she said if I opened it, someone else might know.”
Alejandro leaned forward.
“Where did she tell you to keep it?”
Lucy looked at him.
“Somewhere nobody would look.”
Mariana stared at the key.
“And you kept it with you?”
Lucy gave a small nod.
“I was homeless for a while.”
The confession came quietly.
Not like a dramatic reveal.
More like something Lucy had grown tired of hiding.
Mariana looked at her differently.
“You carried that all those years?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
Lucy looked at the key.
“Because it was the last thing Clara trusted me with.”
Mariana did not know what to say.
The answer was too simple.
Too human.
Alejandro stood and walked toward the window.
“There is one problem.”
Mariana looked at him.
“What?”
“If Daniel Mercer was involved, and if my grandfather’s notes were right, then someone else may have been searching for the same information.”
“Someone who?”
“I don’t know.”
“That is becoming everyone’s favorite answer.”
Alejandro almost smiled.
Almost.
Then his phone vibrated.
The sound cut through the room.
He looked at the screen.
His expression changed.
Mariana noticed immediately.
“What?”
He did not answer.
“Who is it?”
Alejandro turned the phone toward himself.
A message had appeared from an unknown number.
One sentence.
Stop looking for what your grandfather buried.
Lucy saw his face.
“What happened?”
Alejandro locked the screen.
“Nothing.”
Mariana stood.
“No.”
She pointed at the phone.
“That was not nothing.”
Alejandro looked at her.
For the first time that day, he looked afraid.
And Mariana understood something.
Whatever had happened thirty-six years ago was not finished.
It had only been waiting.
Mariana watched Alejandro’s face carefully.
She had seen him handle difficult conversations before.
She had seen him speak to angry clients, negotiate impossible deadlines, and remain calm when everyone else around him became overwhelmed.
This was different.
The fear was not hidden behind professionalism.
It was there in the way his shoulders tightened and the way his thumb hovered over the phone without touching the screen.
“Show me,” Mariana said.
Alejandro looked at her.
“No.”
The refusal came too quickly.
Her expression changed.
“No?”
“It could be nothing.”
“Then show me.”
“Mariana.”
“No.”
She stepped closer.
“You do not get to decide what I can handle anymore.”
The words landed.
Alejandro looked away.
Lucy watched them quietly.
There was no judgment in her expression.
Only recognition.
She knew what it felt like to be kept outside the truth.
Alejandro finally unlocked the phone and placed it on the table.
Mariana read the message again.
Stop looking for what your grandfather buried.
There was no name.
No explanation.
No threat beyond the sentence itself.
That somehow made it worse.
“Who has this number?” she asked.
“I don’t know.”
“You gave it to someone?”
“No.”
“Could someone get it through your work?”
“Possibly.”
“Possibly is not an answer.”
Alejandro rubbed his forehead.
“I have access to old archives through my family foundation.”
Mariana looked at him.
“You never mentioned a foundation.”
“Because I knew how it sounded.”
“How what sounded?”
“Like I was someone with resources and answers.”
She folded her arms.
“Aren’t you?”
Alejandro did not argue.
That was the problem.
“I have resources,” he said.
“I do not have answers.”
Lucy looked at the phone.
“Did the message mention your grandfather?”
“Yes.”
Her face changed.
Not dramatically.
Just enough.
Mariana noticed.
“You know something.”
Lucy shook her head.
“I know people were afraid of him.”
“Why?”
“Because he kept things.”
“That does not explain anything.”
“No.”
Lucy looked tired.
“But it explains why someone might be watching.”
Mariana sat down slowly.
The morning had started with a dirty bathtub and an old woman she thought was a stranger.
Now she was sitting in her kitchen listening to conversations about hidden records and people who had spent decades protecting secrets.
She wanted to laugh.
May you like
She wanted to leave.
She wanted to wake up.
