Ramiro sat in the living room, drinking his fourth glass of whiskey.
He had lost his job that week.
Twenty years at the carpentry shop — gone overnight.
Sara’s voice echoed from the kitchen, tense and furious.
“I told you not to contact me again. What you did is unforgivable. If you don’t fix this, I’m going to talk.”
Ramiro stepped into the doorway.
“Who were you talking to?”
“Nobody. Go to sleep. You’ve had enough.”
He wanted to argue.
But alcohol won.
He collapsed onto the couch.
And slept.
What happened next, he would not remember.
But someone would.
Salomé woke to the sound of a door.
She stepped into the hallway.
From the shadows, she saw a figure enter the house.
A man she knew.
A man who wore blue shirts.
A man who brought her sweets.
Sara screamed.
Then silence.
Salomé hid in the closet as the man in blue walked toward her sleeping father.
THE CRACKS IN THE CASE
Dolores spent the night reviewing hundreds of pages.
Everything pointed to Ramiro.
But small cracks appeared.
The neighbor, Pedro Sánchez, first described seeing “a man” leaving the house.
Three days later, he specified: Ramiro.
Why the change?
The forensic results returned in record time — seventy-two hours — unusually fast.
The prosecutor?
Aurelio Sánchez.
Same surname as the neighbor.
Coincidence?
Dolores dug deeper.
Aurelio was no longer a prosecutor.
He had been promoted to judge three years after the conviction.
His career skyrocketed after “efficiently solving” the case.
But there was more.
Aurelio had business ties to Gonzalo Fuentes.
Together they had purchased multiple properties over five years.
Properties that once belonged to the Fuentes family.
Dolores called Carlos.
“I want everything on Gonzalo’s finances. Every transaction.”
“And find out what Sara Fuentes discovered before she died.”
THE UNCLE
Gonzalo Fuentes arrived at Santa María in a luxury black car.
Perfect suit.
Blue tie.
Always blue.
Carmela felt a chill.
“I’m here for my niece,” Gonzalo said smoothly.
“She’s under state protection,” Carmela replied.
He stepped closer.
“She needs family. Not charity.”
“She needed protection when she arrived with bruises.”
His eyes darkened.
“Be careful what you imply.”
He smiled — but it did not reach his eyes.
“I have connections. I can shut this place down.”
Behind the office door, Salomé stood trembling.
Her eyes locked on her uncle.
Pure terror.
For a split second, Gonzalo’s mask slipped.
Carmela saw it.
Danger.
“Leave,” she ordered.
He smiled coldly.
“This isn’t over.”
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