Chapter 8 - The Mother in the Mask
Isabella Serrano had been remembered as a gentle woman.
Newspapers described her as elegant and charitable. Hospitals carried her name. A foundation for displaced children displayed her portrait in every office.
Julian remembered her hands.
Always cold.
Always careful.
She tucked blankets around him and sang when storms crossed the coast. She sat beside his bed when he suffered nightmares about blue walls. She told him he had an active imagination.
She died when Julian was nineteen.
At least that was what he had believed.
Efrain listened as Julian described her.
“She wore the mask?” he asked.
“Victor could be lying.”
“Why?”
“To break me.”
“Is it working?”
Julian looked down at the brass key.
“I don’t know.”
On December 30, Efrain searched Lorena’s private office while the household prepared the ballroom.
He found invitations, bank records, and guest lists.
Inside Lorena’s safe, he found a letter written by Isabella Serrano.
My dearest Lorena,
You were always the strongest of the children.
Julian feels too deeply. Victor obeys fear. Elena mistakes stubbornness for courage. But you understand the purpose of Aurelia.
A name is merely a door.
A memory is merely a room.
The person inside can always be replaced.
When midnight comes, do not allow affection to weaken you as it weakened Gabriel.
The inheritance belongs to the one capable of using it.
Efrain photographed the letter.
Then he noticed a small black envelope beneath it.
The envelope was addressed to him.
His fingers went cold.
He opened it.
Efrain,
If Lorena reaches the final stage, you will be tempted to rescue the prisoner.
Do not.
You were placed in this house to protect Aurelia, not the Valdés family.
The debt you believe you owe never existed. Your son was arrested because we arranged it. Lorena defended you because we instructed her to.
Your loyalty was conditioned through gratitude.
Do not disappoint us again.
There was no signature.
Only the nine-part silver sun.
Efrain read the letter twice.
For seventeen years, he had built his life around a lie.
Lorena had never saved him.
Her father had never protected his son.
They had manufactured the crisis and then sold him the rescue.
The office door opened.
Efrain slipped the letter into his jacket.
Lorena stood in the doorway.
“What did you take?”
“Nothing.”
She closed the door behind her.
“You have always been a poor liar.”
Efrain moved toward the desk.
Lorena removed a small pistol from her purse.
“You found Julian.”
He said nothing.
“You have been feeding him.”
Still he remained silent.
Lorena pointed the pistol at his face.
“Where is the key?”
“What key?”
She fired beside his head.
The bullet struck the wall.
Efrain did not flinch.
Lorena approached.
“My father told me you were useful because you confused loyalty with love.”
“Your father lied to both of us.”
“He made you important.”
“He made me obedient.”
She smiled.
“Is there a difference?”
Efrain took the letter from his jacket and threw it onto the desk.
Lorena read it.
The satisfaction vanished from her expression.
“You have seen this before?” Efrain asked.
“No.”
“Then someone has been watching you too.”
Lorena looked again at the unsigned message.
For the first time, Efrain saw uncertainty in her.
Not guilt.
Not remorse.
Fear.
“Who wrote it?” he asked.
Lorena folded the letter.
“It doesn’t matter.”
“It matters to you.”
She raised the pistol again.
“You should have stayed out of the basement.”
“You should have remembered who raised you.”
Lorena’s hand shook.
Only slightly.
Efrain stepped closer.
“You were not born cruel.”
“Do not pretend you know me.”
“I knew you before they taught you to enjoy fear.”
Her eyes filled with rage.
She struck him with the pistol.
Efrain fell against the desk.
Lorena called for security.
Two men entered and dragged him toward the door.
“Put him in the basement,” she ordered.
One guard frowned.
“With Serrano?”
“Yes.”
“And after midnight?”
May you like
Lorena looked at Efrain.
“Bury them together.”
