Chapter 4: The Smile That Was Never Real
“Lena? It’s me.”
Roberto’s voice.
Warm.
Calm.
Safe.
The same voice that had comforted me for ten years.
I stood up slowly, clutching the letter behind my back.
He stepped inside.
Holding grocery bags.
Smiling.
“Diego here?” he asked casually.
My voice shook.
“…why are you here?”
He laughed softly.
“What kind of question is that? I always come on Tuesdays.”
He looked around.
Then at me.
And froze slightly.
“…are you okay?”
I studied his face.
The concern.
The innocence.
The perfect mask.
My chest burned.
“You knew,” I whispered.
His smile faded a little.
“Knew what?”
I stepped forward.
And showed him the letter.
The moment his eyes touched the paper—
something changed.
Just for a second.
A flicker.
Gone too fast for anyone else to notice.
But I saw it.
He swallowed.
“Elena… where did you get that?”
My voice broke.
“From Arturo’s lunchbox.”
Silence.
The grocery bags slipped slightly from his hand.
“Ten years,” I whispered. “You watched me suffer for ten years.”
He exhaled slowly.
And when he spoke again, his voice was different.
Lower.
Colder.
“Tío Arturo shouldn’t have written anything.”
My knees weakened.
“…you killed him.”
Roberto stepped forward.
Not angry.
Not surprised.
Just tired.
“He made a choice,” he said.
My vision blurred.
“You murdered him.”
He shook his head.
“No.”
A pause.
“He condemned himself the moment he refused to cooperate.”
My breath stopped.
And then—
from the hallway—
a sound.
Footsteps.
Diego.
He stood frozen in the doorway.
“Mom… what is he saying?”
Roberto turned slowly.
And smiled again.
But this time… it wasn’t warm anymore.
May you like
“Ah,” he said softly.
“Perfect timing.”
