Chapter 6 - THE ACCIDENT THAT NEVER MADE SENSE
Six years earlier, Tomás Valdés had buried two people beneath the same white marble headstone.
His wife, Elena.
And their three-year-old daughter, Inés.
He remembered the cemetery more clearly than the hospital.
The rain.
The priest's trembling voice.
The tiny white coffin beside the larger one.
He remembered trying to stand when the service ended and discovering that his legs would no longer support him.
He remembered Rafael holding him upright while reporters shouted questions beyond the gates.
And he remembered one sentence from the investigating officer.
"The other driver left the scene, Mr. Valdés."
The woman responsible was named Clara Ruiz.
She was twenty-six.
Her vehicle had been found abandoned near an orange grove.
There was evidence that she had survived the collision.
But she had disappeared.
The investigation remained open for months.
Then, without explanation, the leads stopped.
Tomás had been too consumed by grief to fight.
Until now.
He stood in his private study with the paper Lucía had given him.
The names seemed to stare back.
Ana Beltrán.
Sofía Navarro.
Clara Ruiz.
Marina Serrano.
Four women.
Three completed cases.
One unfinished.
Rafael stood beside the desk.
"Do you remember Clara?"
Tomás asked.
Rafael's expression darkened.
"Of course."
"Why would her name be on a foundation document?"
"I don't know."
"Find out."
Rafael hesitated.
"There's something I never told you."
Tomás looked up.
"What?"
Rafael closed the study door.
"After the accident, I hired a private investigator."
Tomás stared.
"You did what?"
"I couldn't accept the police report."
"Why?"
"Because I visited the crash site."
Tomás felt his pulse quicken.
"And?"
"The road wasn't wet."
Silence.
Rafael continued.
"It had rained that morning, but the road was dry by the time the collision happened."
"That doesn't prove anything."
"No."
Rafael nodded.
"But the skid marks bothered me."
"What about them?"
"They didn't match the explanation."
Tomás stood slowly.
"What explanation?"
"The official report said Clara lost control around a curve."
"And?"
"The marks suggested she had been trying to avoid another vehicle."
Tomás stared at him.
"Another vehicle?"
"Possibly."
"Why didn't you tell me?"
Rafael looked ashamed.
"Because you were barely eating."
"You should have told me."
"I know."
"You let me believe—"
"I didn't know what to believe."
Rafael took a breath.
"The investigator disappeared before he finished."
Tomás stopped.
"What do you mean, disappeared?"
"He stopped answering calls."
"When?"
"Three weeks after the funeral."
"Did you report it?"
"Yes."
"What happened?"
"Nothing."
Tomás looked down at Clara's name.
For six years, he had believed his wife and daughter died because of one reckless driver.
Now he was beginning to wonder whether the story had been designed to keep him from asking questions.
A knock came at the door.
Inspector Ferrer entered.
"Mr. Valdés?"
Tomás gestured toward the chair.
"Inspector, please."
She remained standing.
"We've arranged medical attention and temporary protection for Marina."
"Good."
"And we're investigating the foundation."
Tomás placed the list on the desk.
"You need to see this."
Ferrer examined it.
Her eyes narrowed.
"Where did you get it?"
"A server found it near the staircase."
"Do you know any of these women?"
"One."
He pointed to Clara.
The inspector read the name.
"Clara Ruiz."
"She was involved in the accident that killed my wife and daughter."
Ferrer looked up.
"You're certain?"
"Yes."
She reached for her phone.
"I need to verify something."
Tomás waited.
Ferrer stepped into the hallway.
Five minutes passed.
Then ten.
When she returned, the color had drained from her face.
"Mr. Valdés, I need you to listen carefully."
He straightened.
"What is it?"
"Clara Ruiz was officially declared dead four years ago."
Tomás stared.
"Dead?"
"According to a registry entry, yes."
"How?"
"Complications following childbirth."
A long silence followed.
Tomás glanced at the paper.
Clara's name.
Completed.
His throat tightened.
"Was she pregnant?"
"According to the available record."
He lowered himself into a chair.
"Where was she when she died?"
"At a private medical facility outside Valencia."
"Which facility?"
Ferrer hesitated.
"Clínica Santa Aurelia."
Rafael swore quietly.
Tomás looked at him.
"Do you know it?"
Rafael nodded.
"It's one of the clinics supported by Carlota's foundation."
Tomás closed his eyes.
The room seemed to tilt.
Clara had disappeared after the accident.
Years later, she had reportedly died after giving birth at a clinic connected to his wife.
And somehow, her name had ended up on a document linked to an alleged scheme involving vulnerable pregnant women.
"What happened to her baby?" he whispered.
Ferrer didn't answer.
Tomás opened his eyes.
"Inspector?"
"We don't know yet."
He stood.
"Then find out."
"We will."
His voice sharpened.
"No."
He stepped toward her.
"That woman has been connected to my family's tragedy for six years."
He pointed at the list.
"Now she's connected to this."
Ferrer met his gaze.
"I understand."
"Do you?"
Her expression changed.
"I understand enough to tell you this investigation may be bigger than anyone expected."
At that moment, her phone vibrated.
She glanced at the screen.
Then frowned.
"Excuse me."
She answered.
"Ferrer."
A voice spoke rapidly.
Her expression hardened.
"When?"
She listened.
"Secure the building."
Another pause.
"Nobody enters until I get there."
She ended the call.
Tomás stared at her.
"What happened?"
Ferrer looked toward Rafael.
Then back at Tomás.
"The foundation's administrative office is on fire."
May you like
Tomás felt the blood drain from his face.
"And our officers found evidence someone was inside when it started."
