Chapter 4: The Man Who Knew Everything
The man entered the room fifteen minutes later.
He was older.
Elegant.
Expensive suit.
Gray hair.
But the moment I saw his eyes, I knew.
He wasn't here to apologize.
He was here because he was afraid.
“Valentina.””
My mother didn't move.
“Ricardo.””
The name carried history.
Pain.
Anger.
“You shouldn't be here,” she said.
Ricardo looked at me.
“So this is her.””
My hands tightened around the blanket.
“My daughter.””
“Yes.””
He swallowed.
“She looks like you.””
My mother stepped between us.
“You have no right to look at her.””
Ricardo lowered his head.
“I made mistakes.””
I almost laughed.
Everyone in this family loved that phrase.
Mistakes.
A convenient word for cruelty.
My mother pointed at the door.
“Leave.””
“I came because you deserve the truth.””
“Twenty years late.””
“Yes.””
His honesty was almost worse.
He looked at me.
“Your mother didn't abandon you.””
My breath stopped.
“She was forced to disappear.””
I stared.
“By who?””
Nobody answered.
Then Ricardo whispered:
“By my father.””
The room changed.
Another Villalobos.
Another secret.
My mother closed her eyes.
“I spent years thinking I lost my daughter because of my own choices.””
Ricardo looked broken.
“But your grandfather wanted revenge.””
I looked between them.
“Why?””
My mother finally spoke.
“Because I refused to marry into his family.””
The pieces began connecting.
The hatred.
The insults.
The obsession with my background.
Doña Carmela didn't hate me because I was poor.
She hated me because of who I came from.
Ricardo stepped closer.
“There is something else.””
My mother looked at him.
“What?””
He hesitated.
Then pulled out his phone.
On the screen was a photograph.
My stomach dropped.
It was me.
At the hospital.
Taken earlier.
Someone had been watching.
My mother grabbed the phone.
“Who sent this?””
Ricardo looked terrified.
“Your daughter's husband.””
I turned toward Mateo.
But he wasn't there.
He had left.
And on my bedside table was a folded piece of paper.
My fingers trembled as I opened it.
May you like
Only one sentence was written.
*I never wanted to hurt you. But if you want to survive, you need to know what your mother did.*
