Mr. Martín Reyes. He was following her. Not Gonzalo’s men. Martín. Dolores looked around for the black car, but it had disappeared.

However, now she had one certainty. Martín was alive, he was close, and he was trying to communicate. The question was, why wasn’t he showing himself openly?

Who was she so afraid of that she preferred to remain in the shadows for five years? The answer would come sooner than she expected. That night Dolores couldn’t sleep.

He gathered all the pieces on his table: Salome’s drawing, Martin’s medal, the forged will, Beatriz’s engraving, the connections between Gonzalo and Aurelio.

Everything pointed in one direction. Ramiro was innocent. Gonzalo had attacked Sara to silence her.

Aurelio had manipulated the case to protect his partner, but something was missing: the direct testimony of someone who had seen what happened that night.

Salome couldn’t speak. Martin was hiding. Without an eyewitness, everything else was circumstantial.

The clock read 3 a.m., less than 30 hours remained until the execution.

Then Dolores’s phone rang, an unknown number. Mrs. Medina. The voice was male, trembling. Who’s speaking?

My name is Martín. Martín Reyes. I know he’s been looking for me, and I know time is running out. Dolores felt her heart stop. Where is he? Why is he hiding?

Because if they find me, they’ll eliminate me, just like they tried to do five years ago. But I can’t stay silent any longer.

They’re going to execute an innocent man, and I have the evidence to save him. What evidence?

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