Chapter 18 - THE MAN WHO LIED
Alejandro handed the photograph to Detective Sofía.
She examined it.
“When was this taken?”
“I don’t know.”
The mechanic’s name was Esteban Cruz.
He had claimed he met Renata only when she brought the damaged red car to his shop.
The photograph proved otherwise.
He had known both women before the crash.
Sofía reopened his statement.
Esteban was brought in.
At first, he denied everything.
Then police showed him the photograph.
His face collapsed.
“I didn’t kill Mariana.”
Nobody had accused him yet.
That made the room colder.
“What did you do?”
Sofía asked.
Esteban covered his face.
“Renata came to me before the crash.”
Alejandro watched from another room.
“What did she want?”
“She asked questions about brake lines.”
Alejandro’s stomach twisted.
“Did you help her?”
“No.”
Esteban hesitated.
Then corrected himself.
“I explained how they worked.”
“Why?”
“She said she was writing something.”
Sofía stared at him.
“You believed that?”
“No.”
“Then why help?”
Esteban looked down.
“She paid me.”
There it was.
Money.
Again.
“What happened after Mariana died?”
“She came back.”
“With the damaged car?”
“Yes.”
“And?”
“She told me to repair it.”
“Did you know what she had done?”
“I suspected.”
“Did you report it?”
“No.”
“Why?”
“Guillermo paid me.”
Esteban had lied to protect himself.
But the core evidence remained true.
The car had been damaged.
Mariana’s DNA was on it.
Renata had paid for information about brake systems.
Guillermo had paid for silence.
The final loose end strengthened the case rather than destroying it.
Alejandro should have felt relief.
Instead, he felt exhausted.
That evening, he returned home and found Lucía baking cookies with Elena.
Flour covered the kitchen.
Alejandro stopped at the doorway.
“What happened here?”
Lucía smiled.
“Grandma said baking is science.”
Elena pointed at the ruined counter.
“Science occasionally explodes.”
Alejandro laughed.
It felt strange.
Good.
Normal.
He realized how long their home had existed in survival mode.
Every phone call had meant danger.
Every knock had meant fear.
Every unfamiliar car had made him look twice.
Now the biggest emergency was burnt cookies.
He wanted more of that.
So he changed his life.
He reduced his workload.
Mateo became managing partner.
Alejandro started taking Lucía to school himself.
They had breakfast together every morning.
On Fridays, they visited a different park.
Sometimes they talked about Mariana.
Sometimes they didn’t.
Both were okay.
One Friday, Lucía brought the repaired silver frame.
The photograph had been restored.
She placed it on Alejandro’s desk.
“Mommy can stay here.”
Alejandro smiled.
“She always could.”
Lucía looked at the empty space beside the photograph.
“Can we put another picture there?”
“Which one?”
“Ours.”
Alejandro looked at her.
“Just you and me?”
Lucía nodded.
“For now.”
“For now?”
She grinned.
“You might get married when you’re eighty.”
Alejandro laughed.
“That soon?”
Lucía giggled.
Then she became serious.
“Daddy?”
“Yes?”
“Did you love Renata?”
Alejandro thought before answering.
“I loved who I thought she was.”
Lucía nodded slowly.
“Was that person real?”
“No.”
She considered this.
Then she said:
“That’s sad.”
Alejandro looked at his daughter.
“Yes.”
“But it’s not your fault you believed someone who was pretending.”
Alejandro stared at her.
Eight years old.
And somehow she had just given him the sentence he needed.
He pulled her into a hug.
“Where did you get so smart?”
“Grandma.”
From the kitchen, Elena shouted:
“I heard that!”
They laughed.
Then Alejandro’s phone buzzed.
A notification from the hacienda in Querétaro.
The wedding venue had mailed something they found during renovations.
A small envelope.
It had been taped beneath Lucía’s empty chair.
May you like
On the front, in Lucía’s handwriting, were the words:
FOR DADDY AFTER THE WEDDING.
