PART 1 — The Locked Door
The click echoed through the hallway like a final warning.
Mariana didn’t move at first.
Her breath caught in her throat as Camila’s footsteps faded down the corridor, calm and controlled, as if nothing had happened.
But something had.
The lock on Doña Consuelo’s door had just been turned—from the outside.
Mariana rushed forward.
Her hands shook as she tried the handle.
It wouldn’t budge.
“Doña Consuelo!” she whispered urgently.
A weak voice answered from inside.
“I’m here… I’m here…”
Relief hit Mariana for half a second—then fear returned even stronger.
Because the voice sounded distant.
Faded.
Like it was already being buried.
“I’ll get you out,” Mariana said, pulling at the door harder.
Footsteps suddenly echoed behind her.
Slow.
Deliberate.
Camila.
Mariana froze.
Camila appeared at the end of the hallway, holding a glass of water in one hand, her expression perfectly calm.
“Is something wrong?” she asked softly.
Mariana stepped back from the door.
“No… I was just checking on her.”
Camila smiled.
A perfect smile.
A dangerous one.
“She needs rest,” Camila said. “Too much attention confuses her.”
Then she walked past Mariana and placed the glass of water beside the locked door.
“Go back to work.”
It wasn’t a suggestion.
It was an order.
And Mariana understood something in that moment:
Camila wasn’t afraid of being questioned.
She was confident no one would ever believe Mariana over her.
That night, Mariana made a decision.
May you like
If she couldn’t open the door…
She would find another way to open the truth.
