Chapter 8: The Message That Ended His Version of Events
I called Reyes at seven the next morning.
"Daniela Torres contacted me last night," I said.
"She has a written message from Ricardo.
He explained the forged signature to her directly.
She kept it."
A silence on his end.
Then: "She's willing to provide it?"
"She said yes."
"Mariana." His voice was careful but I could hear the shift in it.
"If that message says what you're describing, this is no longer a civil matter with a criminal element.
This becomes primarily criminal with civil consequences attached."
"I understand."
"I need to speak with her today.
Can you give me her number?"
I passed it along.
By ten o'clock, Reyes had spoken to Daniela.
By noon, he had the message forwarded to his secure account.
He called me while I was at Elena's kitchen table with a second cup of tea.
"It's clear," he said.
"He wrote to her in detail.
He explained that he needed collateral for the loans, that he couldn't ask you because you would have refused, and that he signed your name himself.
He used the phrase 'I handled the paperwork.' He also told her not to worry because you would never check those accounts."
I set my cup down.
"He told his mistress he forged my signature," I said.
"And explained that I wouldn't notice."
"In writing.
From his personal phone number."
I looked out Elena's kitchen window at the small yard, the plants, the ordinary morning light.
"File the criminal complaint," I said.
"I'll have it ready this afternoon.
I'll need you to come in and sign."
"I'll be there at two."
I arrived at Reyes's office at five minutes to two.
He had the complaint printed and waiting.
I read every page.
I signed at the bottom of the last one.
Reyes filed it electronically at two-seventeen.
At three-forty, Ricardo called me.
I let it go to voicemail.
He left a message.
His voice was controlled but something underneath it was not.
*Mariana.
I know what you did.
I know you filed something.
I want you to understand that if you go through with this, it destroys everything — the company, the employees, everything we built.
I am asking you one last time to think about what you're doing.
Call me back.*
I listened to it once.
Then I forwarded it to Reyes.
He replied within minutes: *Good.
That message will be added to the file.*
That evening, Sofía and I sat with Elena after dinner.
The television was on but nobody was watching it.
Sofía had her legs tucked under her on the sofa.
Elena was knitting something small and blue.
"What happens now?" Sofía asked.
"The authorities review the complaint," I said.
"Reyes says it could move quickly given the written evidence."
"And the house?"
"Still listed.
No one has been able to stop it."
She was quiet for a moment.
"And Daniela?
What happens to her?"
I had thought about this.
"She's not my enemy," I said.
"She made choices I wouldn't make.
But she also came forward when she didn't have to.
That counts for something."
Sofía considered that.
"The baby is still coming."
"Yes."
"A boy."
"Yes."
She looked at the television without seeing it.
"He's not responsible for any of this."
"No," I said.
"He isn't."
She nodded slowly, as if settling something inside herself.
Elena's knitting needles clicked steadily.
Outside, a car passed on the street.
The house was warm.
My phone lit up on the coffee table.
A news alert — I had set one for Mendoza Holdings weeks ago, a habit from when I still managed Ricardo's administrative correspondence.
I picked it up and read the headline.
*Mendoza Holdings under financial review following fraud allegation.
Director Ricardo Mendoza unavailable for comment.*
The story had already reached the business pages.
I set the phone face-down on the table.
May you like
"Mom?" Sofía was watching me.
"It's started," I said.
