Chapter 2 - THE QUESTION SHE COULD NOT ESCAPE
For several seconds, Marisol could hear nothing except Valentina breathing against her shoulder.
Diego stood ten feet away.
He did not look angry.
That would have been easier.
He looked wounded.
“How old is she?”
Marisol swallowed.
“Three.”
“When did she turn three?”
“August twenty-third.”
Diego’s jaw tightened.
He counted backward without moving his lips.
Then he closed his eyes.
The last night they had spent together had been in November, almost four years earlier.
A rainy night in a small apartment in Coyoacán.
They had eaten tacos from paper plates because Diego had been too tired to attend a business dinner.
He had promised to return two days later.
He never did.
When Marisol discovered she was pregnant, she called him.
His number had been disconnected.
She went to the Villaseñor corporate offices.
Security refused to let her upstairs.
She sent letters.
Emails.
Even one certified envelope.
Nothing came back except silence.
Then, months later, she saw a newspaper photograph.
Diego standing beside his father at a groundbreaking ceremony in Monterrey.
Smiling.
Alive.
Successful.
Apparently untouched by her disappearance.
That was when Marisol stopped trying.
Diego opened his eyes.
“Is she mine?”
Marisol looked down at Valentina.
The little girl was tracing the golden button with one finger.
“Yes.”
Diego inhaled sharply.
Valentina looked up.
“Why is he sad, Mama?”
Marisol nearly broke.
“He’s surprised.”
Diego crouched so his face was level with hers.
“What’s your full name?”
“Valentina Marisol Reyes.”
He looked at Marisol.
“Reyes?”
“My mother’s surname.”
He nodded slowly.
Valentina studied him.
“You know Mama?”
“Yes.”
“How?”
Diego almost smiled.
“A long time ago.”
“Before me?”
“Yes.”
That answer seemed to satisfy her.
She showed him the button.
“Pretty.”
“It is.”
Then she held it toward him.
“You can have.”
Diego stared.
“No.”
He gently closed her fingers around it.
“You found it. You keep it.”
Something changed in his face when her tiny hand touched his.
Not certainty.
Something deeper.
Recognition.
Paulina appeared at the top of the stairs again.
“I’m not going to hide upstairs while some employee tells you whatever story gets her a mansion.”
Diego stood.
“Enough.”
“No.”
She descended.
“If that child is yours, prove it.”
Marisol’s face burned.
Diego answered:
“I intend to.”
Paulina laughed.
“Good. Because women like her—”
“Finish that sentence.”
His voice stopped her.
Paulina stared.
Diego continued.
“Marisol worked in this house for four years and never asked me for anything.”
“That means nothing.”
“She lived ten rooms away from me.”
“Exactly.”
“And said nothing.”
Paulina folded her arms.
“Maybe she was waiting for the right moment.”
Marisol finally spoke.
“I was waiting for nothing.”
Paulina turned.
“You expect me to believe that?”
“I expected to work.”
Marisol tightened her hold on Valentina.
“To feed my daughter.”
Then she looked at Diego.
“I never wanted this.”
Those words hurt him.
“This?”
“Your world.”
His expression tightened.
Paulina smiled as if she had won.
Then Diego asked:
“Why did you come work here?”
Marisol hesitated.
“Because the agency offered housing.”
“You recognized my name.”
“Yes.”
“And still came.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
Her pride finally cracked.
“Because Valentina needed surgery.”
Diego’s face went blank.
“What?”
“She was born with a heart defect.”
Paulina stopped smiling.
Marisol continued.
“She had surgery when she was eleven months old.”
Diego stared at Valentina as though discovering an invisible scar.
“Where?”
“Instituto Nacional de Cardiología.”
“You paid for it?”
“I paid what I could. The rest is debt.”
His eyes filled with anger.
Not at her.
At himself.
“You went through that alone.”
“I had no choice.”
“You had me.”
“No.”
Her answer was immediate.
“I thought I didn’t.”
The words settled between them.
Then Diego said:
“I never received your calls.”
Marisol froze.
“What?”
“I never received letters.”
She stared.
“I went to your office.”
“I was in Madrid.”
“For eight months?”
“No.”
“Then why did nobody let me through?”
Diego’s face hardened.
“I don’t know.”
Paulina looked away.
Marisol noticed.
Only slightly.
But enough.
“Paulina?”
The fiancée turned.
“What?”
“Did you know me before I worked here?”
“No.”
Too fast.
Diego heard it too.
His eyes narrowed.
Paulina laughed.
“This is insane.”
Marisol remembered something.
Four years earlier, before Diego disappeared, there had been another woman at Villaseñor Holdings.
A young legal assistant with perfectly straight hair who had once passed Marisol outside Diego’s office.
She had barely looked at her.
Marisol had forgotten the face.
She had not forgotten the perfume.
Orange blossom.
The same perfume filling the hallway now.
She stared at Paulina.
“You worked for Diego’s father.”
Paulina went still.
Diego looked between them.
“What?”
Marisol whispered:
“You were in the legal department.”
Paulina’s face became cold.
“That was years ago.”
“You knew who I was.”
“No.”
“You saw me.”
“I saw hundreds of people.”
Diego stepped forward.
“What is she talking about?”
Paulina lifted her chin.
“I was a junior associate in your father’s office.”
Diego looked at Marisol.
Then back at Paulina.
A pattern had begun forming.
And Paulina could see it too.
She removed her engagement ring slowly.
Not to surrender.
To make a point.
“You want to destroy five years over something a maid suddenly remembers?”
Diego stared at her.
“Five years?”
Marisol’s heart stopped.
Diego and Paulina had only been publicly together for eleven months.
Paulina realized her mistake.
Too late.
Diego’s voice dropped.
“What happened five years ago?”
No one answered.
Then Valentina tugged Marisol’s apron.
“Mama, I’m hungry.”
The room returned.
Marisol kissed her hair.
“I’ll get you breakfast.”
Diego looked at the child.
Then said:
“No.”
Marisol stiffened.
He turned toward the dining room.
“I will.”
Paulina laughed bitterly.
“You don't even know what she eats.”
Diego stopped.
That sentence landed.
He looked at Valentina.
“What do you like?”
“Banana.”
“And?”
“Pancake.”
“How many?”
She held up three fingers.
Marisol corrected:
“One.”
Valentina lowered two fingers reluctantly.
Diego smiled for the first time.
“One pancake.”
Then he looked at Paulina.
May you like
“And while she eats, you are going to tell me exactly what happened five years ago.”
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