Chapter 19 - ELENA
I did not confront Elena in the church.
For once, I learned.
I cried.
I let her hold my shoulder.
I let her believe I believed her.
Ernesto survived surgery.
The bullet missed his heart.
He told investigators privately what he meant.
Elena had represented one of Ignacio's shell companies years earlier.
Not knowingly at first.
Then knowingly.
She had helped close complaints.
Move documents.
Delay subpoenas.
When I hired her for my divorce, she saw the names.
Rafael.
Ignacio.
Ernesto.
She realized the old network was collapsing.
She did not cause the balcony.
She did not cause Daniel's affair.
She did not create my family's cruelty.
She simply saw our disaster and used it to clean her own fingerprints.
That was worse in a different way.
I met her at her office the next morning wearing a recording device.
She smiled.
“Coffee?”
“No.”
“You never say no to coffee.”
“New me.”
She laughed.
I almost hated myself for still liking her.
We talked about custody.
Daniel.
Carmen.
Then I placed one of Ernesto's old legal invoices on her desk.
Her smile disappeared.
“Where did you get that?”
“Why?”
“No reason.”
“Elena.”
She leaned back.
“Be careful.”
“That's what everyone keeps telling me right before they lie.”
She stood.
“Mariana, you are exhausted.”
“Yes.”
“You're seeing enemies everywhere.”
“Also yes.”
“Go home.”
I didn't move.
She looked at my purse.
Then my collar.
Then directly at the tiny microphone.
Damn.
“You were never good at subtle,” she said.
She grabbed her phone.
I lunged.
She shoved me.
I hit the bookcase.
Not badly.
But hard enough to make me angry.
She ran.
I followed her into the hallway.
Two investigators stepped from the elevator.
Elena stopped.
She looked at me.
“You set me up.”
“No.”
I touched my bruised shoulder.
“You did most of the work.”
They arrested her.
She did not cry.
She looked almost relieved.
Weeks later, prosecutors untangled the mess.
Ignacio's network.
Ernesto's crimes.
Rafael's fraud.
Daniel's role.
Valeria's fake company.
Carmen's attempted removal of Camila.
Elena's obstruction.
Nobody turned out clean.
Including me.
My company had failed controls I should have supervised.
I had signed budgets without reading every attachment.
I had allowed personal cards to become family property because saying no felt harder than earning more.
Those were not crimes.
They were still mistakes.
Daniel accepted a plea agreement on the financial charges.
His custody became supervised.
The first visit was awful.
Camila ran to him.
I hated how relieved I was that she still loved him.
Then I hated myself for hating it.
Afterward, Daniel approached me.
“I am sorry.”
“I know.”
“Do you forgive me?”
“No.”
He nodded.
“Okay.”
It was the first mature thing he had done in years.
Then he handed me an envelope.
“Your mother left this with mine.”
I almost laughed.
“Of course she did.”
Inside was a single deed.
The apartment.
My apartment.
There was a second owner listed.
Not Daniel.
Not my mother.
Camila Vega Salgado.
Ownership share: fifty percent.
Effective date:
The day she was born.
(To be continued)
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