Chapter 7 - The Funeral Without a Body
The tape showed Elena entering Gabriel’s study eight years earlier.
She looked directly into a hidden camera.
“I know you are watching,” she said. “You were watching before my father died.”
Julian sat against the basement pillar with the portable projector balanced on an old crate. Efrain stood beside him, listening for footsteps.
The image continued.
Elena held a folder.
“The deaths at San Jerónimo were not natural. Six patients connected to Aurelia died in eleven months. My father was the seventh.”
She placed the folder on the desk.
“If anything happens to me, Julian must receive this.”
The recording jumped forward.
Lorena entered the study.
She was younger, but the coldness in her face had not changed.
She found the folder.
Victor followed her.
“Burn it,” Lorena said.
Victor opened the file.
Inside were death certificates, payment records, and photographs.
“Your name is here,” Victor said.
“So is yours.”
“She knows about the program.”
“She knows enough to become inconvenient.”
Victor looked at the camera.
For one instant, he seemed to realize it was recording.
“What are you planning?”
Lorena removed Elena’s photograph.
“A funeral.”
The tape ended.
Efrain stared at the blank wall.
“She killed your sister.”
Julian’s hands shook.
“Or she tried.”
“You said Elena was alive.”
“I received a message two years after her funeral.”
He had been alone in his office when an encrypted email appeared.
The subject contained a childhood phrase only Elena knew.
The message held three words.
I am breathing.
He responded repeatedly, but no further message came.
“Why did you tell no one?” Efrain asked.
“Because I didn’t know whether it was real. Because whoever sent it wanted me to remain silent.”
Efrain folded the architectural plans.
“We need to reach her.”
Julian looked toward the basement ceiling.
“The party.”
“What about it?”
“Lorena invited government officials, bankers, and journalists. If I escape upstairs during the celebration, she cannot hide me.”
“She will claim you are unstable.”
“Then we need evidence.”
Efrain held up his phone.
“I can record everything.”
“Not enough. We need the documents she wants me to sign, the drugs Victor used, and the tapes from the chamber.”
“Can you reach the chamber again?”
“Yes.”
“But you can barely walk.”
Julian looked at his injured knee.
“Then we make her believe I am weaker than I am.”
For the next four days, Julian stopped resisting.
He ate whatever Lorena gave him. He signed practice pages with deliberately shaking hands. He allowed Victor to administer injections without argument.
Lorena became confident.
Confidence made her careless.
She began speaking openly in front of him.
On December 29, she stood beside the pillar while Victor checked Julian’s pulse.
“The banking delegation will arrive at eleven forty,” she said. “The signature must be completed before midnight.”
Victor glanced at Julian.
“He may not remain conscious.”
“Then reduce the sedative.”
“If he is too alert, he won’t sign.”
“He will.”
Lorena crouched beside Julian.
“Won’t you?”
Julian slowly opened his eyes.
“What happens after I sign?”
“You receive medical treatment.”
“You’ll release me?”
She smiled.
“You will stop caring whether you are released.”
Julian forced fear into his expression.
Lorena touched his cheek.
“You see? We are finally understanding each other.”
After she left, Victor remained beside him.
“You are pretending,” he whispered.
Julian did not answer.
Victor tightened the bandage on his wrist.
“You cannot win against the Circle.”
“Lorena said this was about inheritance.”
“Lorena says whatever makes her feel powerful.”
“Who controls her?”
Victor looked toward the camera.
“No one controls Lorena.”
“That isn’t what I asked.”
Victor’s hands stopped moving.
Julian lowered his voice.
“Who gave her the white mask?”
Victor’s face hardened.
“You saw someone in the chamber?”
“No.”
“Then why would you ask that?”
“Because you are afraid of it.”
Victor stood.
“The woman in the mask is not one person.”
“What does that mean?”
“It is a role. A title. The Keeper of Names.”
“Who holds it now?”
Victor packed the medical kit.
“I don’t know.”
“Do you know who held it when I was a child?”
Victor turned toward the stairs.
“Yes.”
“Who?”
May you like
Victor looked back.
“Your mother.”
