Chapter 18 — The Last Lie
Ricardo didn't sleep.
He sat beside Diego's hospital bed until sunrise.
His son's small hand rested inside his.
For the first time in months, Diego slept without flinching.
No locked doors.
No cameras.
No sedatives.
No footsteps outside the room.
Just silence.
Safe silence.
Ricardo watched his son breathe.
Then Diego's eyes slowly opened.
“Daddy?”
Ricardo leaned closer.
“I'm here.”
“Are you leaving?”
“Never.”
Diego looked at him carefully.
“You promise?”
Ricardo squeezed his hand.
“I promise.”
Diego's eyes filled with tears.
Then he whispered:
“Mommy said you would disappear.”
Ricardo felt something break inside him.
“She was wrong.”
Diego nodded.
“She was scared.”
“Of Mateo?”
Diego shook his head.
“No.”
“Then who?”
The boy looked toward the door.
“Uncle Javier.”
Ricardo froze.
“Javier?”
Diego nodded.
“He told Mommy that if she didn't listen, you'd disappear.”
Ricardo stared at his son.
“But Javier was protecting the evidence.”
Diego looked confused.
“He wasn't always bad.”
Ricardo's expression changed.
“What do you mean?”
“He told me to remember things.”
“Why?”
“So someone would know.”
Ricardo slowly stood.
Javier had known.
He had been inside the network.
But perhaps he had been playing both sides.
And someone had known that.
Someone had manipulated everyone.
Three hours later, Ricardo entered the interrogation room.
Esteban sat behind the glass.
His lawyer stood beside him.
Ricardo didn't look at either of them.
He placed a folder on the table.
“You're going to tell me who the second genetic match belongs to.”
Esteban smiled.
“I already told investigators everything.”
“No.”
Ricardo sat down.
“You told them the version that keeps you alive.”
Esteban's smile disappeared.
Ricardo opened the folder.
“We found the original laboratory records.”
Esteban said nothing.
“We found your payments.”
Silence.
“We found your messages.”
Still nothing.
“We found the surveillance footage.”
Esteban's eyes shifted.
Ricardo leaned forward.
“And we found your DNA.”
Esteban's face changed.
“You can't prove—”
“We don't need to.”
Ricardo slid one photograph across the table.
It showed Esteban standing beside Mateo.
But behind them was another man.
A man Ricardo recognized.
His own father's former physician.
The doctor everyone believed had died twelve years earlier.
Esteban swallowed.
Ricardo whispered:
“Who is he?”
Esteban looked down.
“I don't know.”
“Wrong answer.”
Ricardo pushed another photograph across the table.
This one was taken seven years ago.
The man stood outside the hospital on the night Diego was born.
Beside him—
Javier.
And Valeria.
Esteban finally broke.
“He was the administrator.”
“Of what?”
“The trust.”
Ricardo's voice became ice.
“Name.”
Esteban looked toward the one-way mirror.
Then whispered:
“Your mother.”
Ricardo stopped breathing.
“My mother is dead.”
“She died publicly.”
Ricardo stared at him.
“What does that mean?”
Esteban's voice trembled.
“Your mother didn't die when they said she did.”
The door opened.
Gabriel entered.
His face was pale.
“Ricardo.”
Ricardo stood.
“What did you find?”
Gabriel held a document.
“I found Elena's death certificate.”
Ricardo took it.
Then stared.
The date was wrong.
The signature was forged.
The physician listed on the certificate didn't exist.
Gabriel whispered:
“Your mother disappeared.”
Ricardo looked up.
“Where did she go?”
Gabriel shook his head.
“We don't know.”
Esteban suddenly laughed.
Everyone turned.
“You're all still looking in the wrong place.”
Ricardo stepped toward him.
“Where is she?”
Esteban smiled.
“Ask Mateo.”
“He's injured.”
“He's alive.”
Ricardo's eyes narrowed.
“What are you saying?”
Esteban leaned forward.
“Mateo never wanted Diego.”
Ricardo froze.
“What?”
“He wanted Elena.”
The room went silent.
Esteban continued.
“Everything you thought was about the inheritance…”
He shook his head.
“It was about finding her.”
Ricardo felt the pieces shift.
Mateo's obsession.
The old records.
The manipulated DNA.
The hidden photographs.
The missing medical files.
His mother's disappearance.
And suddenly—
Diego's blood wasn't the end of the plan.
It was bait.
Ricardo turned to Gabriel.
“Where is Mateo?”
Gabriel's phone rang.
He answered.
His expression changed instantly.
“Ricardo…”
“What?”
“Mateo escaped.”
Ricardo's stomach dropped.
“When?”
“Twenty minutes ago.”
“Where?”
Gabriel looked at him.
“The old Galván cemetery.”
Ricardo grabbed his jacket.
Then Esteban spoke one last time.
“You're too late.”
Ricardo turned.
Esteban smiled.
“Because Mateo isn't running.”
“Then what is he doing?”
“He's waiting.”
“For me?”
Esteban shook his head.
“No.”
His eyes darkened.
“For your mother.”
At the cemetery, the rain had started.
Ricardo walked between the graves.
Gabriel followed several steps behind.
No guards.
No police.
No lights.
Only rain.
Then Ricardo saw someone standing beneath the old stone arch.
Mateo.
Blood stained his shirt.
But he was smiling.
“You came.”
Ricardo raised his gun.
“Where is my mother?”
Mateo looked past him.
“You still don't understand.”
“Tell me.”
Mateo reached into his coat.
Ricardo tightened his grip.
Mateo slowly removed an old photograph.
He held it up.
Ricardo's breath caught.
The photograph showed Elena.
Alive.
Older.
Standing beside a little girl.
A girl Ricardo had never seen.
On the back of the photograph were five words:
SHE HAS BEEN WATCHING YOU.
Ricardo looked at Mateo.
“Who is the girl?”
Mateo smiled.
“Your sister.”
Lightning tore across the sky.
And behind Ricardo—
a woman's voice whispered:
“Emiliano.”
Ricardo slowly turned.
His mother's voice.
After all these years.
May you like
Alive.
Standing in the rain.
