CHAPTER 5: THE WOMAN IN THE PHOTOGRAPH
Sofía stared at the photograph until her eyes began to hurt.
No.
It was impossible.
Her mind rejected what her eyes were seeing.
The woman in the picture was older than the woman Sofía remembered from childhood.
Her hair was darker.
Her face had fewer wrinkles.
But the eyes…
Those eyes were impossible to forget.
Warm.
Gentle.
Always carrying the weight of other people’s pain.
Her mother.
Elena Reyes.
A woman who had spent thirty years working as a nurse.
A woman who believed every patient deserved the same care, whether they were rich or poor.
A woman who died eight years ago.
A woman who had never mentioned the Velasco family.
Never.
Sofía turned the photograph over.
There was handwriting on the back.
A date.
And one sentence.
"I tried to stop them before it reached your family."
Her fingers tightened.
Her family.
What did that mean?
A sound behind her made her turn.
Nicolás stood at the end of the hallway.
He had seen her expression.
“What is that?”
Sofía did not answer.
She quickly placed the photograph behind the folder in her hand.
Too late.
Nicolás noticed.
“What are you hiding?”
The question was sharp.
Normally, people would immediately explain themselves.
Sofía did not.
Because suddenly she was not sure who she could trust.
Not in this mansion.
Not in this family.
Not after discovering her mother’s name connected to Mateo.
“Where did you find it?”
Nicolás stepped closer.
“Answer me.”
Sofía looked at him.
“You first.”
His eyes narrowed.
“Excuse me?”
“You have been investigating this family for years.”
A pause.
“You knew about Dr. Ortega.”
Nicolás’s expression changed slightly.
“And you knew about this photo.”
“No.”
“Then why hide it?”
Because for the first time, Sofía saw something behind his anger.
Not suspicion.
Fear.
The same fear she saw in Leonor.
The same fear she saw in Camila.
Everyone inside this mansion was afraid of something.
But nobody was saying what.
She slowly handed him the photograph.
Nicolás looked down.
The moment he saw Elena Reyes…
His face lost all color.
Sofía noticed.
“You know her.”
It was not a question.
Nicolás did not answer.
His silence was enough.
Eight years earlier.
A private hospital outside Mexico City.
That was where Sofía’s mother had worked.
The same hospital where wealthy families arrived through private entrances.
The same hospital where poor families waited for hours.
Elena Reyes never cared about the difference.
She treated everyone equally.
That was why Sofía admired her.
That was why Sofía became a nurse.
But eight years ago, everything changed.
Elena had come home one night exhausted.
Not physically.
Emotionally.
She had locked herself in her room.
She had burned documents.
She had told Sofía one thing.
“Some people become dangerous when they believe they are doing something good.”
At the time, Sofía thought her mother was talking about a difficult patient.
She never imagined she was talking about the most powerful family in Mexico.
Back in the Velasco mansion, Nicolás placed the photograph on the table.
“She worked at Saint Isabella Hospital.”
Sofía stared at him.
“Yes.”
“She was involved in Mateo’s birth.”
The words struck harder than expected.
Sofía felt the room tilt.
“What?”
Nicolás looked away.
“I did not know her personally.”
“That is not what I asked.”
He remained silent.
Then:
“She was one of the nurses present the night Mateo was born.”
Sofía stepped back.
Her own mother.
In this mansion’s story.
A story she had never known existed.
“Why did she never tell me?”
Nicolás did not answer.
Because he did not know.
Or because he did not want to say.
Sofía’s voice became colder.
“What happened that night?”
Before Nicolás could respond…
Another voice interrupted.
“Your mother discovered something.”
Everyone turned.
Leonor stood behind them.
Nobody knew how long she had been there.
“You knew?”
Nicolás looked furious.
Leonor ignored him.
She looked at Sofía.
“Your mother was a good woman.”
Sofía’s eyes hardened.
“Do not talk about her like you knew her.”
“I knew her.”
“Then tell me the truth.”
Leonor looked tired.
“The night Mateo was born, Elena noticed something unusual.”
“What?”
“The hospital records did not match the actual events.”
Sofía waited.
Leonor continued.
“Some medications were administered that were not listed.”
The hallway became silent.
“Who ordered them?”
Leonor looked at Nicolás.
Then away.
“I never found out.”
Sofía immediately understood.
Someone powerful was involved.
Someone capable of hiding evidence.
Someone capable of controlling a hospital.
Someone capable of making a nurse disappear from the story.
“What happened to my mother?”
The question came out quietly.
But everyone heard it.
Leonor looked down.
“She tried to report it.”
“And?”
“She failed.”
“Why?”
A long pause.
“Because the people she accused had more power than she did.”
Sofía’s hands trembled.
All these years.
She thought her mother died because of illness.
A simple tragedy.
Now she wondered.
Was it?
“Nobody told me.”
Nicolás looked at her.
“Sofía…”
“No.”
She stepped back.
“You do not get to say my name like you understand.”
Her voice broke slightly.
“You had money. Security. Influence.”
She looked around the mansion.
“All of this.”
Then at him.
“My mother had nothing except the truth.”
Nobody spoke.
Because nobody could deny it.
That night, Sofía refused to leave.
Not because of Nicolás.
Not because of the money.
Because of Mateo.
And because she needed answers.
She returned to the nursery.
The baby was asleep.
She sat beside him.
“You know something, don’t you?”
Of course, Mateo could not answer.
But babies remembered things adults forgot.
Smells.
Voices.
Touches.
Fear.
She looked at the photograph again.
Her mother holding him.
A baby only hours old.
Why?
Why was Elena holding Mateo?
Why had she hidden it?
Then Sofía noticed something.
In the photograph…
Her mother was wearing an ID badge.
She zoomed in.
The image was blurry.
But there was enough.
A department name.
Pediatric Research Unit.
Sofía froze.
Her mother was not just a nurse that night.
She was assigned to research.
A unit that officially did not exist.
She immediately searched the old hospital records she had saved years ago.
Nothing.
No mention.
No department.
No files.
Deleted.
Again.
Just like Mateo’s medical records.
A pattern.
Someone had erased everything.
Then her phone vibrated.
Unknown number.
One message.
She opened it.
Only four words.
STOP DIGGING, SOFÍA REYES.
Her blood ran cold.
A second message arrived.
This time, with a photo.
A recent photo.
Taken inside the Velasco mansion.
Taken minutes ago.
The image showed Sofía sitting beside Mateo.
But behind her…
Standing in the doorway…
Was someone watching.
Someone she recognized.
Someone who had no reason to be there.
Her phone slipped slightly in her hand.
Because the person in the picture…
May you like
Was supposed to be dead.
END OF CHAPTER 5
