PART 4 — THE WOMAN WHO WAS SUPPOSED TO BE DEAD
PART 4 — THE WOMAN WHO WAS SUPPOSED TO BE DEAD
The old Salazar estate.
Those words followed me like a nightmare.
A place I hadn't visited since I was a child.
A place everyone told me to forget.
A place connected to the worst memory of my life.
My mother's death.
I looked at my father.
His face had lost all color.
"Dad."
He didn't answer.
He was staring at the security guard.
"Repeat what you said."
The guard swallowed.
"The woman inside said her name was Lucia Salazar."
My mother's name.
Impossible.
My fingers tightened around my belly.
My baby moved.
A small kick.
A reminder.
I couldn't collapse.
Not now.
Santiago watched my father carefully.
For once, he wasn't looking at me with arrogance.
He looked confused.
Almost afraid.
"Your mother?"
I turned toward him.
"What?"
He hesitated.
"Your mother was alive?"
The question hit me.
Because he said it too naturally.
Like he had heard something.
My eyes narrowed.
"You knew something?"
"No."
His answer came too quickly.
I stepped closer.
"Santiago."
He looked away.
That was enough.
"Tell me."
He sighed.
"I heard rumors."
"What rumors?"
He remained silent.
My father interrupted.
"Enough."
I turned.
"No."
My voice was firm.
"Everyone keeps saying enough."
A pause.
"But I deserve the truth."
My father looked at me.
And this time...
He didn't stop me.
Santiago finally spoke.
"After we got married, I searched your background."
My chest tightened.
"I found old files."
He looked at my father.
"Your mother's death records were sealed."
My father said nothing.
"Why?"
Santiago continued.
"I don't know."
A pause.
"But someone had removed information."
My father looked away.
And I knew.
Another secret.
We left for the old estate thirty minutes later.
My father insisted on security.
I refused to stay behind.
Not this time.
Santiago came too.
I didn't want him there.
But strangely...
I needed him.
Because he was part of this.
Whether I liked it or not.
The road to the estate was quiet.
Too quiet.
The mansion appeared through the trees.
Dark.
Abandoned.
The place where my childhood ended.
I remembered running through those halls.
My mother's voice.
Her perfume.
Her laughter.
Then the night everything changed.
The night I woke up and she was gone.
Everyone said she died instantly.
A car accident.
A tragic accident.
But now...
I didn't believe anything anymore.
The front gate opened.
No resistance.
That scared everyone.
"Someone expected us."
Elena whispered.
My father nodded.
"Stay close."
We entered.
The air smelled old.
Dust.
Wood.
Memories.
My footsteps echoed.
I walked into the main hall.
And froze.
Because everything was exactly the same.
The piano.
The paintings.
The furniture.
Even the small table where my mother used to leave flowers.
Except one thing.
A photograph.
Standing in the center.
Waiting.
I walked closer.
My breath stopped.
It was a picture of me.
As a child.
With my mother.
But there was something else.
Someone had written on the back.
I never left you.
My hands shook.
"No."
My father came beside me.
He read it.
His face changed.
Because he recognized the handwriting.
"Lucia."
He whispered.
My father said my mother's name like it was a prayer.
Like he had spent years wanting to hear it.
A sound came from upstairs.
Everyone froze.
Footsteps.
Slow.
Careful.
Coming down.
My father's security team raised their weapons.
Then a woman's voice echoed through the hall.
"Put those away."
Everyone stopped.
Because the voice...
Was familiar.
Not from memory.
From reality.
A woman appeared at the top of the stairs.
Older.
Tired.
But alive.
My world tilted.
Because she looked exactly like my mother.
My father took one step back.
"No."
The woman looked at him.
"Ricardo."
That was enough.
His face broke.
Not anger.
Not fear.
Pain.
A pain I had never seen before.
"Lucia?"
The woman smiled sadly.
"Hello."
My knees almost gave out.
My mother.
Alive.
Standing in front of me.
After fifteen years.
I couldn't move.
Couldn't speak.
Because every emotion arrived at once.
Anger.
Love.
Confusion.
Pain.
The woman looked at me.
Her eyes filled with tears.
"Valeria."
My name.
The way she said it.
The way only my mother did.
And suddenly I was eight years old again.
Waiting at the window.
Waiting for her to come home.
Waiting for a woman who never came.
Then my father stepped between us.
"No."
My mother looked at him.
"Ricardo..."
"You don't get to come back like this."
His voice broke.
"You let me bury you."
She closed her eyes.
"I know."
"You let your daughter believe you abandoned her."
"I know."
"Do you understand what you did?"
Tears filled her eyes.
"Every single day."
A pause.
"I lived with that."
I finally found my voice.
"Why?"
Both of them looked at me.
My mother stepped forward.
But I moved back.
"No."
My voice shook.
"You don't get to call me your daughter."
The pain on her face almost broke me.
Almost.
"Why did you leave?"
She cried.
"Because they were going to kill you."
I laughed bitterly.
"Everyone says that."
A pause.
"But nobody tells me who."
My mother looked at my father.
Then at Santiago.
Then at Beatriz, who had arrived behind us.
Everyone froze.
Because my mother's eyes stopped on Beatriz.
And hatred appeared.
Real hatred.
"She."
One word.
Beatriz's face changed.
"What?"
My mother pointed at her.
"She was the reason I disappeared."
The room exploded.
My father looked at Beatriz.
"Explain."
Beatriz stepped backward.
"No."
My mother continued.
"Fifteen years ago, I discovered what she was doing."
Beatriz's calm disappeared.
"Don't listen to her."
My mother laughed.
"You always loved controlling the story."
A pause.
"But this time..."
She looked at me.
"Valeria deserves to know."
My mother walked toward an old cabinet.
She opened it.
Inside was a hidden compartment.
She pulled out a small box.
"This is why I stayed away."
She placed it on the table.
My father opened it.
Inside were documents.
Photographs.
Bank records.
And one letter.
Addressed to me.
My name.
Written fifteen years ago.
My hands shook.
"What's inside?"
My mother looked at me.
"The truth about your family."
A pause.
"And the reason your husband was chosen for you."
Everyone froze.
Santiago looked confused.
"Chosen?"
My mother looked at him.
"Yes."
Then she said the words that destroyed everything.
"Santiago Rivas did not find you by accident."
She looked at me.
"Someone arranged your marriage before you ever met him."
Silence.
"And the person who planned it..."
She turned.
May you like
Pointed directly at my father.
"Was your own father."
