Chapter 16 - THE THING I HAD FORGOTTEN
The front door opened before I touched it.
Beatriz stood inside.
No silk robe.
No perfect makeup.
Her hair was loose.
Her face exhausted.
She held no visible weapon.
That frightened me more.
“Where is Isabella?”
“Inside.”
“I want to see her.”
“You will.”
She stepped back.
“Come in.”
I crossed the threshold.
The door closed.
The house smelled like dust and old wood.
Beatriz walked ahead.
“Do you remember the first night we met?”
“Yes.”
“I knew who you were.”
“I know that now.”
“I knew before you walked into the room.”
She turned.
“I had studied you for months.”
That should have hurt.
It didn’t.
Not anymore.
“Where is Isabella?”
“You always do that.”
“Do what?”
“Reduce everything to her.”
“She’s my daughter.”
“And I was your wife.”
“Was.”
Her face twitched.
“You already decided?”
“You decided three months ago.”
“No.”
She stepped closer.
“I decided years ago.”
There it was.
The truth.
Not the details.
The shape.
Beatriz had never entered my life accidentally.
“Why marry me?”
“At first?”
She smiled faintly.
“To get close enough to destroy what your family protected.”
“My family had nothing to do with your father.”
“I know that now.”
That surprised me.
“You know?”
“I found his records last year.”
“Then why continue?”
Her expression emptied.
“Because by then I had already spent twenty years hating you.”
“You didn’t know me twenty years ago.”
“No.”
“But I knew your name.”
She laughed softly.
“And hatred doesn’t like being told it wasted its life.”
Somewhere in the house, something creaked.
I listened.
Then I remembered.
Sofia once told me something about this estate.
Years before I met Beatriz.
We had driven past it during a trip.
She pointed toward the eastern wing.
“Old Spanish houses sometimes had servants’ passages between the pantry and chapel.”
At the time, it meant nothing.
Now I looked toward the wall.
A narrow panel line.
A passage.
If police knew the floor plan, they could use it.
I needed Beatriz away from Isabella.
“You hated me.”
I said.
“So punish me.”
“I am.”
“Then leave Isabella out of it.”
Beatriz smiled.
“She is the only reason punishment works.”
A small voice came from behind the wall.
“Dad.”
I turned.
Beatriz’s head snapped toward the sound.
The panel moved.
Just slightly.
Isabella had found the passage.
Beatriz lunged toward it.
I grabbed her arm.
“Run, Isabella.”
The panel flew open.
My daughter appeared.
Barefoot.
Terrified.
But moving.
Beatriz shoved me away and reached for her.
I blocked her.
Isabella ran into the corridor.
Then the entire house erupted.
Police.
Commands.
Footsteps.
Lights.
Beatriz froze.
Her face changed as she realized the passage had given them access.
She looked at me.
“You remembered.”
“No.”
May you like
I stared at the opening.
“Sofia did.”
