Chapter 3 - Camila’s Notebook
Camila Ruiz had kept a notebook.
Elena found it in a plastic bin at the back of her apartment storage unit.
She had gone there at six the next morning with Mara and a warrant officer because Dante insisted nobody search alone after the warehouse discovery.
The notebook was green.
Cheap.
Bent at one corner.
Most pages contained grocery lists, reminders, and bookkeeping calculations.
Then Elena found the dates.
February 4.
Dizzy after coffee. Slept 3 hours.
February 7.
Yellow taste in milk? Thought carton bad.
February 10.
Julian says anxiety.
Elena stopped.
Mara leaned closer.
“Julian.”
“Yes.”
“Same doctor?”
“Yes.”
Elena turned the page.
February 14.
Victor says stop asking about invoices.
February 15.
Someone moved files.
February 18.
Lily saw man in kitchen. Probably nothing.
Elena’s hands shook.
Mara photographed each page.
“Who is Victor?”
“Victor Raines. Camila’s boss.”
North Coast.
Julian’s brother-in-law.
The theory sharpened.
Camila had discovered financial irregularities while working for Victor.
Julian treated her.
Yellow residue appeared in drinks.
She became increasingly sleepy.
Then she died.
Official cause: accidental interaction between prescribed sedatives and alcohol.
Elena had believed it because Camila occasionally drank wine.
Now she remembered the half-empty bottle on the kitchen counter.
She had thrown it away after the funeral.
“What if they put something in the wine?”
Mara did not answer too quickly.
“We need toxicology records.”
“Two years old.”
“We get them.”
“Her body was cremated.”
Mara looked at her.
“I’m sorry.”
Elena swallowed.
“So no proof.”
“Proof can come from records.”
The notebook continued.
March 2.
Copied North Coast payments. V.R. moving money through lake properties.
March 4.
Need tell Elena but don’t want her scared.
March 8.
Julian changed prescription. Says I need stronger sleep medicine.
March 12.
Lily asked why milk yellow. I poured it out.
March 16.
If anything happens, green notebook behind winter blankets.
Elena sat down on the concrete floor.
Mara did too.
For two minutes, neither woman spoke.
Camila had known.
Not enough to save herself.
Enough to leave a trail.
Back at the Moretti estate, Dante was improving.
The toxicologist identified the compound in his water as a veterinary sedative rarely used in human medicine.
Low doses caused fatigue, confusion, slowed reaction time.
Repeated doses could produce dangerous cardiac effects when combined with certain medications Dante already took.
That meant whoever dosed him knew his prescriptions.
Julian.
Or someone with access to Julian’s files.
Lily came into the bedroom carrying Bunny.
She stopped at the door.
“Can I come in?”
Dante looked toward Elena.
She nodded.
“Yes,” he said.
Lily climbed onto the chair instead of the bed this time.
“You look less dead.”
Elena covered her face.
Dante blinked.
“Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
She held up Bunny.
“He says sorry too.”
“For?”
“Calling you dead.”
Dante almost smiled.
“Accepted.”
Lily looked at the missing glass.
“Where’s yellow water?”
“Police have it.”
“Did I help?”
That question cut through every adult in the room.
Dante answered carefully.
“Yes.”
Lily smiled.
Then Elena knelt beside her.
“But it was not your job to fix anything.”
Lily frowned.
“I didn’t fix it.”
“No?”
“I just told you.”
Elena’s eyes filled.
Children sometimes understood healthy boundaries more easily than adults.
She hugged Lily.
Dante watched.
Then Lily pulled away.
“Can we get pancakes?”
Dante looked at the IV line in his arm.
“For you?”
“And you.”
“I’m not hungry.”
Lily narrowed her eyes.
“You need food.”
Elena smiled.
“Apparently you have a new doctor.”
Dante looked horrified.
“Absolutely not.”
Pancakes arrived anyway.
While Lily ate, Marco returned from the warehouse.
He waited until she left before speaking.
“Victor Raines is alive.”
Dante stared.
“Where?”
“Canada. Maybe. Records show travel under another name.”
“Maybe?”
“Last confirmed image fourteen months ago.”
“What was in the warehouse?”
Marco placed photographs on the bed tray.
Invoices.
Drug orders.
Property files.
A list of Moretti employee medical conditions.
Dante’s name appeared beside heart medication.
Three others had annotations.
One former captain had died in a car crash after complaining of dizziness.
Another retired after a stroke.
A third disappeared.
Elena looked sick.
“This is bigger than Camila.”
Mara entered.
“It may be.”
She placed another file down.
“We pulled clinic records.”
Julian had altered Camila’s chart twice after her death.
One change removed mention of suspected poisoning.
Another added “history of alcohol misuse.”
Elena stood.
“That’s a lie.”
Mara nodded.
“We know.”
“Why would the clinic allow that?”
“They didn’t know. He used administrator credentials.”
Dante’s voice turned cold.
“What did Camila know about North Coast?”
Elena handed him copies of the notebook pages.
He read silently.
When he reached the line about copied payments, he looked up.
“Did you find the copies?”
“No.”
“Where would she put them?”
Elena thought.
Camila hated banks.
Distrusted clouds.
She kept cash inside cookbooks.
Important papers in ridiculous places because she said thieves never respected domestic clutter.
Then Lily ran back into the room.
“Aunt Elena?”
“What?”
“Can I have Mommy Camila’s snow globe?”
Elena froze.
“What snow globe?”
“The Chicago one.”
“Why?”
“I miss it.”
Elena stared at Mara.
Camila’s snow globe had a hollow base.
She used it to hide spare apartment keys.
Or anything else.
They drove back to storage.
Inside the base was a flash drive wrapped in plastic.
On it were North Coast ledgers.
Payments to Julian Vale.
Payments to private pharmacies.
Payments labeled medical consulting.
And one recurring payment to a company Luca knew immediately.
Bellini Risk Group.
Marco’s family company.
Dante looked at Marco.
Marco looked at the screen.
Neither man spoke.
The betrayal had just moved closer.
That evening, Lily asked to see Camila’s notebook.
Elena hesitated.
“She wrote grown-up things.”
“I can read.”
“That is not the same thing.”
Lily frowned.
Dante sat nearby, saying nothing.
Finally Elena chose three harmless pages.
Grocery list.
A joke about spaghetti sauce.
A note reminding herself to buy Lily new crayons.
Lily smiled.
“She remembered purple.”
“What?”
“I only liked purple then.”
Elena’s face softened.
“Yes.”
Lily touched the paper carefully.
“Can I keep a copy?”
“Why?”
“So I remember normal stuff.”
That answer broke something open in Elena.
For days, everyone had spoken about Camila as evidence.
Victim.
Witness.
Target.
Lily wanted crayons.
So Elena made copies of ordinary pages.
Dante watched.
Later he said:
“That was smart.”
“She’s six.”
“That does not answer what I said.”
Elena smiled faintly.
“Kids know when adults turn dead people into stories.”
He thought of his own father.
Every memory had become legend.
Very few remained ordinary.
Maybe ordinary memories were the ones grief needed most.
The next morning Dante had Marco order a full independent review of every death or forced retirement tied to Moretti business over the previous five years.
Marco looked at him.
“All of them?”
“All.”
“That’s going to hurt.”
“Yes.”
“Financially?”
“Probably.”
“Politically?”
“Yes.”
“Personally?”
Dante looked toward Lily eating cereal in the breakfast room.
“Yes.”
Marco nodded.
“Then we do it.”
The review later uncovered two cases unrelated to Julian, three legitimate accidents, and one fraud scheme Dante had never known existed.
Not every suspicion became conspiracy.
May you like
That mattered too.
Truth was not useful if it simply replaced one certainty with another.
