Chapter 3
Mateo was the first to notice the name.
He pointed at the bank statement.
“Abuela.”
Rosa leaned closer.
At the bottom of the page was a series of recent transactions.
The amounts were large.
Much larger than anything Rosa had ever imagined.
And beside each transfer was the same account number.
Rosa looked at Arturo.
“Whose account is this?”
Arturo did not answer.
Mateo already knew.
“Verónica.”
Arturo closed his eyes.
Rosa felt the room spin.
“No.”
Arturo looked at her.
“Mamá…”
“No.”
She stood up too quickly.
Her hand grabbed the edge of the table.
Mateo immediately held her arm.
“Abuela.”
Rosa looked again at the document.
The name was clearly printed.
Verónica Castañeda.
The same woman who had told Rosa she was too old to understand her own affairs.
The same woman who had helped place her in the asylum.
The same woman who had claimed that Arturo was only trying to protect her.
Rosa looked at her son.
“How much?”
Arturo whispered.
“I don't know.”
“You don't know?”
“I stopped looking.”
Rosa stared at him.
“Because you were afraid?”
Arturo nodded.
“Of Verónica?”
He hesitated.
“Yes.”
Mateo looked at him with disbelief.
“You were afraid of your own wife?”
Arturo laughed bitterly.
“You don't know her.”
Mateo's face hardened.
“No. I know exactly what she did to my grandmother.”
Arturo lowered his head.
Rosa slowly sat down again.
“Tell me everything.”
Arturo remained silent.
“Now.”
He looked toward the window.
Then he began.
After Ernesto died, Rosa's father had left behind several financial investments.
Most had been liquidated.
But one property remained.
A commercial building in the center of the city.
It had been rented for years.
The rental income was deposited into an account controlled by a family trust.
Rosa had never known about the trust.
Arturo had discovered it accidentally after Ernesto's death.
Sebastián had known about it too.
And Verónica had discovered it later.
The three of them had begun moving the money.
Small amounts at first.
Then larger ones.
Rosa's eyes filled with disbelief.
“How much?”
Arturo's voice trembled.
“More than enough to pay every debt I had.”
Mateo leaned forward.
“And yet you still tried to take the house.”
Arturo looked at him.
“I didn't know how much was there.”
Rosa stared at her son.
“You knew there was money.”
“Yes.”
“You knew my family owned property.”
“Yes.”
“You knew I was in an asylum.”
Arturo closed his eyes.
“Yes.”
“And you still tried to take my house.”
Arturo could not respond.
Rosa stood.
She walked to the window.
Outside, the street was quiet.
People passed without knowing that a family had just uncovered twenty years of betrayal.
Rosa remembered something.
“Why did Ernesto never tell me?”
Arturo shook his head.
“I don't know.”
But Mateo looked at the old letter.
“Maybe he was afraid.”
Rosa turned.
“Afraid of what?”
Mateo pointed to a sentence.
“Your grandfather wrote that if you ever found this, it meant he had been right to be afraid.”
Rosa looked at the handwriting.
Then she noticed something she had missed before.
At the bottom of the page was another sentence.
Written in smaller letters.
“Ask about the night of the accident.”
Rosa stopped breathing.
The night of the accident.
She knew exactly which accident.
The accident that had killed her father.
More than thirty years ago.
Everyone had said it was a brake failure.
A tragic accident.
A closed case.
Rosa had believed that for decades.
But now she looked at Arturo.
“Your grandfather knew something about my father's death.”
Arturo's face turned pale.
“I didn't know.”
“You knew the documents existed.”
“Yes.”
“You knew there was money.”
“Yes.”
“And you never looked at the rest of the letter?”
Arturo shook his head.
“I was afraid of what I might find.”
Rosa stared at him.
Then she picked up the phone.
She called Elena Pardo.
The lawyer answered after two rings.
“Rosa?”
Rosa looked at the documents.
“I need you to come.”
Elena heard the seriousness in her voice.
“What happened?”
Rosa looked at Arturo.
Then at Mateo.
“We found another secret.”
Elena was silent.
“How serious?”
May you like
Rosa looked at the line about the accident.
“Serious enough to reopen the past.”
