Chapter 5 - THE FIRST NAME ON THE LIST
By ten-thirty that evening, two police vehicles had arrived outside Palacio de las Rosas.
Their flashing blue lights swept across the mansion's stone walls.
Inside, the charity ball had collapsed into confusion.
Guests who had spent thousands of euros on tickets were standing in small groups, whispering into phones.
Some tried to leave.
Others stayed because they sensed that whatever was happening would become the biggest scandal Valencia had seen in years.
Tomás stood beside the nursery window, staring at the Mediterranean lights in the distance.
He was trying to remember the last time Carlota had told him the truth.
Not the last time she had spoken.
The last time she had said something he could believe.
Rafael approached.
"The police are downstairs."
"Good."
"Mr. Salinas is asking to speak with his attorney."
"He can."
"And Carlota?"
Tomás turned.
"Keep her away from Marina."
Rafael nodded.
"Understood."
Tomás looked toward the sitting room.
Marina had been given water and a blanket.
A doctor was on the way.
She was still frightened, but the arrival of the police seemed to have given her enough confidence to speak.
Tomás walked back inside.
"Marina?"
She looked up.
"Yes?"
"I need to ask you something."
She nodded.
"You said there were other women."
Her eyes lowered.
"Yes."
"How many?"
"I don't know."
"Can you tell me what happened?"
Marina took a breath.
"I met Eduardo through a woman named Beatriz."
"Who is Beatriz?"
"She worked at a shelter."
Marina rubbed her palms together.
"I thought she was a social worker."
"What did she offer you?"
"An apartment."
"Where?"
"Outside the city."
"Was it connected to the foundation?"
Marina nodded.
"They said it was temporary housing for pregnant women."
Tomás sat opposite her.
"What was it really?"
She hesitated.
"A place where women waited."
"For what?"
"To have their babies."
He remained silent.
Marina's eyes filled.
"Some women wanted adoption."
"All right."
"Some didn't."
Tomás leaned forward.
"What happened to the women who changed their minds?"
Marina looked toward the closed door.
"They were told they owed money."
"Money for what?"
"Food."
"Medical care."
"Rent."
"Transportation."
She shook her head.
"They said if we didn't cooperate, they'd take us to court."
Tomás felt sick.
"They can't force someone to surrender a child because of a debt."
"I know that now."
Her voice broke.
"But when you're pregnant, broke, and scared, and somebody tells you you'll lose your baby anyway, you don't always know what to believe."
Tomás had spent decades negotiating business contracts.
He understood power.
He understood pressure.
And he understood exactly how a person with money could make someone without it feel trapped.
"Why were you brought here tonight?"
Marina swallowed.
"Because I tried to contact a lawyer."
Tomás sat straighter.
"When?"
"Yesterday."
"What happened?"
"Eduardo found out."
"How?"
"I don't know."
She wiped her face.
"He told me Carlota wanted to talk."
"So you came here?"
"They said they'd let me leave if I signed something."
"What?"
"A document saying I voluntarily agreed to give up my daughter."
Tomás stared.
"And when you refused?"
"They took my phone."
Marina looked at the door.
"Then they locked me inside."
Tomás clenched his hands.
A knock interrupted them.
Rafael entered with a police inspector.
She was tall, dark-haired, and carried herself with calm authority.
"Mr. Valdés?"
"Yes."
"Inspector Isabel Ferrer."
Tomás stood.
"Thank you for coming."
"I understand a woman may have been unlawfully confined."
"Yes."
"And there may be allegations involving fraudulent adoption arrangements."
"That's what we're trying to determine."
Inspector Ferrer looked toward Marina.
"Are you comfortable speaking with me?"
Marina nodded.
"But please don't let Eduardo come near me."
"He won't."
Ferrer motioned to an officer.
"Stay outside this room."
Then she turned back to Tomás.
"We'll need to separate everyone involved."
"Of course."
"And nobody should handle any more objects that may be evidence."
Tomás nodded.
"The bag and documents are on the table."
"We'll secure them."
Before she began questioning Marina, Ferrer looked toward the antique doll bed.
"Who found the box?"
"A child."
"A child?"
"Three years old."
The inspector raised an eyebrow.
Tomás gave a tired, humorless smile.
"Believe me, I know how that sounds."
"Where is she?"
"With her mother."
"Has anyone spoken to her formally?"
"No."
"Good."
Ferrer nodded toward the door.
"We'll want a trained child interviewer involved if necessary."
Tomás understood.
A three-year-old's account needed to be handled carefully.
No leading questions.
No adults putting words into her mouth.
No turning a frightened child into entertainment for a room full of wealthy strangers.
Downstairs, Lucía sat with Vega in a quiet office beside the kitchen.
Her daughter had finally fallen asleep.
Pilar stood near the door.
When Tomás entered, Lucía immediately rose.
"Mr. Valdés."
"Please sit."
He looked at Vega, asleep in her mother's arms.
For the first time that evening, his expression softened.
"How is she?"
"Tired."
"I'm sorry."
Lucía shook her head.
"You don't have to apologize."
"Yes, I do."
He sat across from her.
"She was treated badly in my home."
Lucía glanced down.
"She's only three."
"I know."
"Sometimes she notices things other people miss."
Tomás nodded.
"She noticed something important tonight."
Lucía hesitated.
"Is the woman upstairs okay?"
"She's receiving help."
"And your wife?"
He looked toward the hallway.
"We're still trying to understand what happened."
There was a long silence.
Then Lucía spoke.
"Mr. Valdés, there's something else."
He turned back.
"What?"
"Earlier, before the party started, Vega found a piece of paper."
Tomás frowned.
"What paper?"
Lucía reached into her apron pocket.
She took out a folded sheet.
"I thought it was trash."
"Where was it?"
"Near the service staircase."
She handed it to him.
"Vega picked it up because she liked the picture of the bird."
Tomás unfolded it.
At the top was the logo of Fundación Nueva Esperanza.
Below were four names.
Three were crossed out.
One was circled.
Marina Serrano.
The crossed-out names were:
Ana Beltrán.
Sofía Navarro.
Clara Ruiz.
Beside each name was a date.
And in a column marked Status, someone had written a single word.
Completed.
Tomás felt a chill.
Lucía watched his expression change.
"What is it?"
He didn't answer immediately.
Instead, he stared at the third name.
Clara Ruiz.
He knew that name.
Six years earlier, a woman named Clara Ruiz had been driving the vehicle that struck his wife's car.
The police had determined that she lost control on a wet road.
Clara had vanished before the investigation was complete.
Tomás had spent years wondering what had happened to her.
Now her name appeared on a list connected to his wife's foundation.
He looked at Lucía.
"Where exactly did your daughter find this?"
"Beside the stairs."
"Was anybody there?"
Lucía thought for a moment.
"Mr. Salinas."
Tomás looked toward the hallway.
Then he folded the paper very carefully.
Because for the first time that night, he realized Carlota might have been hiding something much darker than a fake pregnancy.
May you like
The name on that list belonged to the woman who had supposedly killed his first family.
And someone had marked her case completed.
