Chapter 6 - Ricardo laughed.It was not a happy laugh.
It was the sound of a man whose mind had reached the edge of what it could accept.
“You're insane.”
Valeria didn't respond.
Inspector Herrera looked between them.
“Mrs. Galván, I need you to explain that statement.”
Valeria nodded.
“Seven years ago, Ricardo was in a private plane accident.”
Ricardo stared at her.
“I flew to Monterrey.”
“You never arrived.”
“I remember arriving.”
“You remember what you were told to remember.”
Ricardo took a step backward.
“No.”
Valeria continued.
“There was no public report because the flight was private.”
Inspector Herrera's eyes narrowed.
“Do you have proof?”
Valeria pointed toward a table.
“There.”
An envelope.
Inside was a photograph.
A crash site.
A burned aircraft.
And a body bag.
Ricardo stared.
The date matched.
Seven years ago.
His supposed flight.
His supposed survival.
But there was another photograph.
A hospital bed.
A badly injured man.
Ricardo stared at the face.
It was him.
Or looked like him.
Same face.
Same height.
Same scar on his eyebrow.
But there was something wrong.
The medical record listed the patient as unknown.
Valeria whispered:
“After the accident, Gabriel found him.”
“Found who?”
“You.”
Ricardo looked at her.
“No.”
“He altered your records.”
“No.”
“He paid doctors.”
“No.”
“He used technology from your own company to build a replacement identity.”
Ricardo's skin went cold.
His mind searched for memories.
His first six months after the accident.
The pain.
The headaches.
The dreams.
The strange gaps.
He remembered waking in a hospital.
He remembered Valeria crying beside him.
He remembered being told he had lost part of his memory.
At the time, he thought it was trauma.
Now every missing piece felt like a trapdoor.
Inspector Herrera asked:
“Why would Gabriel do this?”
Valeria looked down.
“Because the real Ricardo was supposed to die.”
“And you allowed it?”
“I was afraid.”
“You married the replacement?”
Valeria nodded.
“Not at first.”
Ricardo couldn't speak.
Valeria's voice broke.
“I thought it was temporary.”
“Temporary?”
“He told me he would keep me safe.”
“And Diego?”
“He didn't know.”
Ricardo stared at her.
“How could he not know?”
“Because Diego was born after the accident.”
Ricardo's heart stopped.
The room went silent.
“Then whose child is he?”
Valeria's answer came slowly.
“Camila's.”
“But the father?”
Valeria looked at him.
“The father was the real Ricardo.”
Ricardo's mind shattered.
“No.”
“Yes.”
She closed her eyes.
“Diego was conceived before the accident.”
Suddenly everything became possible.
The child.
The identity.
The business.
The secret.
But one question remained.
“If I'm not Ricardo,” the man said, “who am I?”
Valeria looked at him for a long time.
Then answered:
“I don't know.”
The police took her away for further questioning.
Ricardo returned to the hospital.
He sat beside Diego all night.
At dawn, the boy opened his eyes.
“Daddy?”
Ricardo turned.
“I’m here.”
“Are you really Daddy?”
Ricardo struggled to breathe.
“What makes you ask that?”
Diego touched his face.
“Mommy said people can wear other people's faces.”
Ricardo went still.
“Did she?”
“Yes.”
“Who taught her?”
“Gabriel.”
Then Diego frowned.
“He said you wouldn't recognize me.”
Ricardo felt his blood turn to ice.
“Why?”
“Because you weren't there when I was born.”
Ricardo looked down.
The room suddenly felt too small.
Then Diego said something else.
“The man who visits the secret room…”
Ricardo stared.
May you like
“What man?”
“He looks like you.”
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