Chapter 10: The Doctor Who Buried My Father

Chapter 10: The Doctor Who Buried My Father

The hearing room was packed.

Reporters filled the back rows. Jorge Mendoza sat at the front table in a charcoal suit, calm and polished, as though he were attending a business luncheon rather than trying to steal the land my father had died protecting.

Karina sat beside the district prosecutor.

When Jorge saw her, his smile disappeared.

Dr. Esteban Valez entered through a side door.

He was seventy-two now, with silver hair and a cane.

Under oath, he claimed Rodrigo Ruiz had privately admitted that I was not his son and intended to transfer the Coyoacán property back to Hector Mendoza.

It was a clean lie.

Rehearsed.

Designed to erase both my inheritance and my father’s resistance.

Our attorney stood.

“Do you have written proof?”

Valez produced a photocopied letter bearing Rodrigo’s signature.

Rafael leaned toward me.

“It’s forged.”

The board members examined it.

Jorge’s attorneys asked for the property to be frozen immediately.

Then Karina stood.

“I have evidence that Dr. Valez is lying.”

Jorge’s head snapped toward her.

The room erupted in whispers.

Karina handed the prosecutor a flash drive containing recordings of her father discussing payments to Valez. She had copied them from Jorge’s home office years earlier as insurance.

Valez’s confidence cracked.

The prosecutor played one file.

Jorge’s voice filled the chamber.

“Doctor, you were paid once to silence Rodrigo. Don’t make me pay twice.”

Valez stared at Jorge.

“You promised that recording was destroyed.”

Every camera in the room turned toward him.

Jorge rose.

“This hearing is over.”

Marisol blocked the exit.

“No, Mr. Mendoza. It’s just beginning.”

Officers moved toward Jorge.

Then all the lights went out.

Someone screamed.

A gunshot shattered the darkness.

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When the emergency lights flickered on, Dr. Valez lay on the floor.

And Rafael was gone.