Chapter 7 — The Child They Erased
Alejandro couldn't breathe.
He stood in front of the photograph.
Lucía was holding the baby.
Her hair was longer.
Her face was younger.
But there was no mistaking her.
It was his wife.
And in her arms was a newborn child.
The date beneath the photograph was seven years earlier.
Seven years.
The same year Alejandro supposedly met Lucía for the first time.
He turned toward her.
“Lucía.”
She didn't answer.
She was staring at the photograph.
Her lips moved.
But no sound came out.
Esteban slowly raised one trembling hand.
“Don't force her to remember.”
Alejandro turned sharply.
“You knew?”
Esteban looked away.
“I knew everything.”
“Then tell me!”
His voice echoed through the medical room.
“Who is that child?”
Esteban's eyes filled with tears.
“Your daughter.”
Alejandro froze.
Lucía covered her mouth.
“No.”
Esteban nodded.
“Yes.”
“No.”
Lucía backed away.
“That isn't possible.”
“You gave birth to her.”
Lucía shook her head violently.
“I've never had a child.”
“You did.”
“Where is she?”
Esteban looked at Alejandro.
“She was taken.”
“By whom?”
Esteban didn't answer.
Alejandro stepped closer.
“By whom?”
His father finally whispered:
“Your mother.”
Lucía made a broken sound.
Alejandro stared at Esteban.
“Elena?”
Esteban nodded.
“She believed the child was the key to controlling you.”
Alejandro's face hardened.
“What does that mean?”
Esteban's hands trembled.
“Your mother knew I was preparing to remove her from the family business.”
“Why?”
“Because I discovered what she had done.”
“What had she done?”
Esteban looked toward the wall.
At the black serpent.
“She was working with Victor.”
Alejandro's stomach dropped.
“Why?”
“Money.”
Esteban paused.
“Power.”
Then he looked directly at Lucía.
“And you.”
Lucía stepped backward.
“Me?”
Esteban nodded.
“You were never a random woman Alejandro met at a charity event.”
Alejandro's expression changed.
“What are you saying?”
“You were chosen.”
Lucía stared at him.
“Chosen for what?”
“To become Alejandro's wife.”
The room seemed to shrink.
Alejandro shook his head.
“No.”
Esteban continued.
“Elena had been watching you for years.”
“Why?”
“Because your father knew about the Black Serpent.”
Lucía's eyes widened.
“My father?”
Esteban nodded.
“He discovered what the organization was doing.”
Alejandro felt dizzy.
“Then why did you allow me to marry her?”
“I didn't.”
“What?”
“I tried to stop it.”
Esteban looked exhausted.
“But by then, Elena had already begun manipulating both of you.”
Lucía whispered:
“The memories.”
Esteban nodded.
“Yes.”
Alejandro stared at him.
“You erased our memories?”
“No.”
Esteban's eyes hardened.
“They did.”
“Who?”
“Victor.”
Alejandro stepped forward.
“How?”
“Drugs. Hypnosis. Repetition. False documents. False photographs. People telling you the same lie until your brain accepted it as truth.”
Lucía's knees weakened.
“I remember the nursery.”
Esteban closed his eyes.
“Yes.”
“The baby.”
“Yes.”
“Her name.”
Esteban hesitated.
Lucía whispered:
“I remember her name.”
Alejandro turned toward her.
“What was it?”
Lucía looked at him.
“Isabella.”
The name seemed to hit the room like thunder.
Esteban looked away.
Alejandro stared at the photograph again.
Isabella.
His daughter.
A child he had spent seven years believing had never existed.
A child whose mother had been forced to forget her.
A child his own family had erased.
“Where is she?”
Esteban said nothing.
“Dad.”
“She was moved.”
“Where?”
“I don't know.”
Alejandro grabbed the edge of the table.
“You've known for seven years and you don't know?”
“I tried to find her.”
“And?”
“They found me first.”
Esteban lifted his sleeve.
There were scars around his wrist.
Old surgical scars.
“They kept me alive because I knew where the records were.”
Alejandro's anger suddenly disappeared.
“What records?”
“The original records of every person they erased.”
Mateo moved closer.
“Where are they?”
Esteban pointed toward a locked cabinet.
“Behind the wall.”
Mateo pulled open the panel.
Inside were hundreds of files.
Names.
Dates.
Photographs.
Medical records.
Birth certificates.
Adoption documents.
Alejandro began searching.
Then he found one.
MONTERO, ISABELLA.
His hands shook as he opened it.
Birth date.
Seven years earlier.
Mother: Lucía Montero.
Father: Alejandro Montero.
Status:
TRANSFERRED.
No destination.
No adoptive parents.
No death certificate.
Alejandro looked at Esteban.
“She is alive.”
Esteban didn't answer.
“She's alive.”
“I believe so.”
“Where?”
Esteban's voice became faint.
“The last record was signed by Rafael.”
Alejandro froze.
“Rafael?”
“Yes.”
The door suddenly exploded inward.
Mateo drew his weapon.
A man in black tactical clothing entered.
Then another.
Then another.
The Black Serpent symbol was stitched onto their jackets.
“Down!” Mateo shouted.
Gunfire ripped through the room.
Alejandro pulled Lucía behind the medical bed.
Esteban remained in his wheelchair.
One of the attackers approached him.
“Where is the ledger?”
Esteban smiled.
“You're too late.”
The man raised his weapon.
Alejandro lunged.
Mateo fired.
The attacker dropped.
Another rushed toward the cabinet.
Lucía saw him.
Without thinking, she grabbed a metal tray and struck him across the head.
He collapsed.
Alejandro looked at her.
For the first time since finding her at the hotel, he saw something different in Lucía's eyes.
Not fear.
Recognition.
She knew how to fight.
She knew how to survive.
She had been surviving for seven months.
Maybe longer.
They escaped through a service corridor while Mateo covered them.
When they finally reached a locked maintenance room, Alejandro slammed the door shut.
Everyone was breathing heavily.
Esteban looked at him.
“There's something else.”
Alejandro stared.
“What?”
“Rafael isn't the man you think he is.”
Alejandro's jaw tightened.
“He betrayed us.”
“No.”
Esteban shook his head.
“He betrayed them.”
Alejandro went still.
“What?”
“Rafael has been trying to find Isabella.”
Lucía looked at Esteban.
“Why?”
“Because he was the one who took her.”
Alejandro's eyes widened.
“What?”
Esteban continued.
“He didn't give her to Victor.”
“He hid her.”
“Where?”
Esteban looked directly at Alejandro.
“In the one place Elena would never think to search.”
Before Alejandro could ask another question, Esteban's eyes widened.
He suddenly looked toward the ceiling.
A tiny red light was blinking above the door.
A camera.
Esteban whispered:
“They're listening.”
Mateo immediately looked up.
The camera rotated.
And then a voice came through the speaker.
Elena.
“Hello, Alejandro.”
His blood ran cold.
“You finally found your father.”
A pause.
Then she said:
“Now let me tell you where your daughter is.”
The speaker went silent.
A second later, Alejandro's phone vibrated.
One message.
One photograph.
A little girl.
Seven years old.
Dark hair.
Brown eyes.
Standing beside a lake.
And beneath the photograph was one sentence:
SHE HAS BEEN WAITING FOR YOU TO REMEMBER HER.
Alejandro stared at the screen.
Then Lucía saw the photograph.
Her hand flew to her mouth.
She whispered the girl's name.
“Isabella…”
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And somewhere far away, a little girl looked into a camera and asked:
“Why hasn't my daddy come back yet?”
