Chapter 7 - THE RECORDING
Beatriz had hidden the recording in a cloud account.
Police recovered it.
Alejandro's voice was unmistakable.
Once Daniel is gone, the trust moves under guardianship.
Then?
Then the girl becomes unnecessary.
Beatriz's recorded voice asked what that meant.
Alejandro laughed.
Accidents happen in rich families too.
I listened once.
Only once.
Then I walked into a bathroom and vomited.
My own brother had planned my daughter's death.
Money wasn't the reason anymore.
Maybe it never had been.
Hatred had become his religion.
The recording gave police leverage.
Beatriz began talking.
Everything.
She had met Alejandro three years earlier.
He told her about Elena.
About me.
About the company.
He encouraged her to meet me.
Our relationship had been engineered.
Every coincidence.
Every introduction.
Every perfect moment.
Manufactured.
But Beatriz claimed something changed.
“I actually fell in love with you.”
I stared through the interview glass.
She continued.
“And that's why you tortured Isabella?”
Her eyes dropped.
“I hated how much you loved her.”
There it was.
Not an excuse.
The truth.
“She was always first.”
“She is my child.”
“I know.”
“No.”
I leaned forward.
“You never understood that.”
Beatriz cried.
I felt nothing.
She admitted creating fake messages.
She admitted punishing Isabella.
She admitted isolating her.
But she denied cutting the brake line.
“Alejandro did that.”
“Through Luis.”
“Yes.”
“Where is Alejandro?”
She finally answered.
“My family's old property outside Granada.”
Police moved immediately.
Alejandro wasn't there.
But they found evidence he had recently left.
Maps.
Weapons.
Cash.
And a photograph of Isabella's school.
Then Mateo called.
“Daniel.”
“What?”
“There's been a security breach.”
My entire body went cold.
“Where?”
“The safe house.”
I was already moving.
“Is Isabella okay?”
Pause.
“She's gone.”
The world stopped.
“What did you say?”
“Someone triggered a fire alarm.”
I couldn't breathe.
“Where is Rosa?”
“Injured.”
“Isabella?”
“Missing.”
I drove faster than I had ever driven in my life.
When I reached the property, police vehicles filled the street.
Rosa sat inside an ambulance.
Blood ran down her forehead.
“I'm sorry.”
I grabbed her shoulders.
“What happened?”
“A man came through the kitchen.”
“Alejandro?”
“No.”
“Who?”
She shook her head.
“I've never seen him.”
Then a police officer approached.
“Mr. Vega?”
He held out something.
Isabella's stuffed rabbit.
A note was pinned to its chest.
This time, little brother, don't bring the police.
May you like
Come alone.
Or your daughter learns what losing a parent really feels like.
