I can’t wait any longer. Dolores slumped into a chair. Her legs wouldn’t support her. Why?
Why so long? Why didn’t I speak up sooner? Because I didn’t have enough evidence. But now I do, and there are less than 24 hours left to save Ramiro.
Sara sat down across from Dolores and began to speak. Her voice trembled, but her words were firm. The night Gonzalo attacked me, I had confronted my husband.
I told him that his brother had forged his parents’ will.
Ramiro didn’t believe me. We argued. He drank himself to death on the sofa. What happened next?
Gonzalo arrived an hour later. He had a key to the house. Ramiro never took it from him. He found me in the kitchen. I tried to reason with him, but he was furious.
He hit me. I fell. Everything went dark. How did you survive? Sara looked at Martín, who continued the story. I had returned to the house that night.
I forgot my gardening tools. I saw Gonzalo’s car outside and something seemed off.
I went in through the back door and found Sara on the floor. She was still breathing.
Gonzalo was in the living room putting the gun in Ramiro’s hands while he was asleep. He didn’t see him. He was too engrossed in his thoughts. I got Sara out through the kitchen window.
I took her to my mother’s house. That same night I drove for four hours straight. When we arrived, she woke up. Sara spoke again.
Martin saved my life, but when I learned that Ramiro had been arrested, I wanted to return immediately.
Martín stopped me. Why? Because Gonzalo had contacts in the police and the prosecutor’s office.
If I had turned up alive, they would have truly eliminated me. Salomé too. Gonzalo had seen her that night hiding in the hallway. He knew she was a witness.
If I spoke out, my daughter would pay the price. Dolores understood this woman’s terrible sacrifice. She let her husband be condemned to protect her daughter.
Every day of these 5 years has been hell, Mrs. Medina, but today it ends.
I have proof, and we’re going to use it. Sara pulled an old phone out of her pocket, an old model that hardly anyone used anymore.
“I was recording the night of the attack,” he explained. “I had started documenting everything: Gonzalo’s threats, his calls, his visits.”
I was afraid something would happen to me and I wanted to leave evidence. What exactly did you record? Sara pressed play. The recording was audio, not video, but it was clear.
Gonzalo’s voice filled the room. “Did you think you could threaten me, Sara?”
Did you think you could destroy everything I’ve built? Aurelio told me to give you one last chance, but you chose the difficult path.
Sara’s voice was frightened but firm. “Gonzalo, please, think of Ramiro. He’s your brother. Ramiro is a loser. He always has been.”
She shouldn’t have inherited anything. Everything was for me. For me. And you’re not going to ruin it. Then a bang, a scream, and the recording ended. Dolores felt her heart pounding in her ears.
This is a confession.
And she mentions Aurelio. There’s more, Sara said. The phone kept recording after I lost consciousness.
He caught Gonzalo calling Aurelio. He pressed play again. It’s done, but there’s a problem. The little girl saw everything. She was hiding in the hallway.
Aurelio’s voice. “Take care of the husband as we planned. I’ll take care of the girl.” One word from him and she’d be an orphan. Dolores had the proof she needed.
Gonzalo and Aurelio, condemned by their own voices.
Why did I wait five years to use this? Because I needed Salome to be safe. And because I needed someone to believe me.
Someone with the power to take this to court. Someone like you at the Santa María home. Salomé drew, but this time they weren’t scenes of terror.
She drew a small house, a bright sun, and three figures holding hands: a man, a woman, and a girl. Carmela watched her from the doorway.
After everything that had happened, after Gonzalo’s attempt to take her away, the girl appeared calmer, as if she knew that something was changing.
“Can I sit with you?” Carmela asked. Salomé nodded. Carmela looked at the drawing. “Is that your family?” Salomé nodded again.
You miss them. The girl stopped drawing. She looked at Carmela with those enormous eyes that seemed to see beyond the walls. And then, for the first time in days, she spoke.
“My mother told me to keep it a secret,” she whispered. “She told me that when the time came, I would know what to do. The time has come, Mrs. Carmela.”
I told Dad that Mom is alive.
I told her that she visits me in my dreams and tells me to be strong. Carmela felt tears fall down her cheeks.
Is your mother alive, little one? Yes, and she’s going to save us all. At that moment, Carmela’s phone rang. It was Dolores Medina. Carmela, listen carefully.
Sara Fuentes is alive. I have proof that Ramiro is innocent. We’re on our way to court. I need you to keep Salome safe until this is all over.
How long? Less than 24 hours.
If all goes well, Ramiro will be free tomorrow and Salomé will have a family again.
Dolores. Sara and Martín traveled all night back to the city. Time was their worst enemy. There were less than 18 hours left until Ramiro’s execution.
They arrived at Dolores’s house at dawn. Carlos was waiting for them with news. Gonzalo is in pretrial detention, but his lawyers are moving heaven and earth to get him released.
Aurelio has activated all his connections. If we don’t act quickly, they’re going to bury this.
“They’re not going to bury anything,” Dolores said.
We have Sara’s recordings, we have Martín’s testimony, we have Salomé’s drawing analyzed by a forensic psychologist, we have the false will, and we have the alleged victim, alive and willing to testify.
“Who do we present all this to?” Carlos asked. Aurelio is a judge; he has contacts in all the courts.
“Not all of them,” Dolores said. “There’s one judge Aurelio hasn’t been able to corrupt. Judge Fernanda Torres is old school, a woman of integrity, and she owes me a favor from 20 years ago.”
Sara went ahead. Are you sure we can trust her? As sure as she is that the sun will rise tomorrow, Fernanda Torres has rejected bribes from drug traffickers and condemned powerful politicians.
He’s not afraid of anyone.
If anyone can stop this execution, it’s her. Dolores picked up the phone and dialed a number she hadn’t used in decades. Fernanda, this is Dolores Medina.
I need a favor. The biggest of your career. That’s it. Judge Fernanda Torres received them in her private office an hour later.
She was a 70-year-old woman with white hair and steely eyes that did not tolerate lies.
“This had better be true,” Dolores warned. “If you waste my time, no friendship will be worth anything.”
Fernanda, I’d like you to meet Sara Fuentes, the woman whose husband is to be executed today for allegedly attacking her. Fernanda looked at Sara with a mixture of astonishment and skepticism.
Can she prove she is who she says she is? Sara handed over documents, her birth certificate, her expired identity card, family photographs, and more.
her fingerprint that exactly matched Sara Fuentes’ official records.
It’s me, Your Honor, and I have proof that my brother-in-law Gonzalo attacked me on the orders of prosecutor Aurelio Sánchez. Audio evidence where they both confess everything.
Sara played the recordings. Fernanda listened silently to her impassive face. When the recordings finished, she spoke.
If this is true, we are facing one of the biggest judicial scandals in the country’s history. It is true, Dolores said, and we have less than 15 hours to stop the execution of an innocent man.
Fernanda stood up and walked to the window. “I’m going to call an emergency hearing, but I need you to understand something. Dolores.”
If Aurelio finds out about this too soon, he’ll pull out all the stops to destroy it. We need to act in secret until the very last moment. So, let’s act.
Fernanda picked up her phone. Prepare courtroom 5, closed hearing, maximum security, and make sure no one, absolutely no one, knows who is involved.
Final flashback. The night of the crime from Sara’s perspective.
Sara was in the kitchen when she heard the front door open.
She thought it was Ramiro who had forgotten something, but the footsteps were different, heavier, more purposeful. Gonzalo appeared in the doorway of the kitchen. His expression was cold, calculated.
I warned you not to get involved, Sara. Gonzalo, we can talk about this. It doesn’t have to end badly. It already did.
Things ended badly when you decided to threaten me. Aurelio says you’re a loose end, and loose ends get cut. He lunged at her.
Sara tried to defend herself, but Gonzalo was stronger. He hit her. She fell against the table. Her vision blurred. The last thing she saw before losing consciousness was her daughter.
Salomé stood in the hallway, her eyes wide with terror. Sara gathered her last bit of strength and signaled her. Silence.
Hide. Don’t make a sound. Salome obeyed. She hid in the hallway closet. The next thing Sara remembered was waking up in a moving car.
Martin was taking her somewhere safe. “My daughter,” she murmured. “My husband. We can’t go back,” Martin said.
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