CHAPTER 5
CHAPTER 5
THE LOCKED ROOM
Roberto ran upstairs.
He had never moved that fast in his life.
Not when the doctors told him Isabella was dying.
Not when the hospital called seven years ago.
Not even when he heard the gunshots downstairs.
Because this time, he had heard his daughter's voice.
And Sofía was screaming.
"Daddy!"
He reached her bedroom.
The door was closed.
Locked.
Roberto grabbed the handle.
"Sofía!"
No answer.
He tried again.
"Sofía!"
Something crashed inside.
Roberto stepped back.
Then slammed his shoulder against the door.
Once.
Twice.
The lock splintered.
The door flew open.
"Sofía!"
The room was empty.
Roberto froze.
The curtains moved in the cold night air.
The balcony doors were open.
María stood near the bed.
Her face was white.
"Where is she?"
"I don't know."
"What do you mean you don't know?"
"I was right here."
"Where is my daughter?"
"I heard her scream."
Roberto looked around.
The bed.
The closet.
The bathroom.
Nothing.
Then he noticed something.
The stuffed rabbit.
It lay on the floor.
Its ear had been torn.
Roberto picked it up.
His hands began shaking.
"Sofía wouldn't leave this."
María whispered:
"No."
Roberto looked at the balcony.
He rushed outside.
The garden below was dark.
Rain had started again.
He looked over the railing.
Nothing.
No body.
No footprints.
No movement.
Then he heard a sound.
A faint tapping.
Behind him.
Roberto turned.
María was staring at the wall.
"What?"
She pointed.
"That."
He listened.
Tap.
Tap.
Tap.
Tap.
The sound came from inside the wall.
Roberto approached.
He pressed his palm against it.
The tapping stopped.
Then Sofía's voice whispered:
"Daddy?"
Roberto's heart nearly stopped.
"Sofía!"
"I'm here."
"Where?"
"I don't know."
Roberto looked at María.
She was trembling.
"Can you hear me?"
"Yes."
"Where are you?"
Sofía cried.
"I can't see."
"I know, sweetheart."
"I'm scared."
"I'm coming."
"There is a door."
Roberto stared at the wall.
"What door?"
"A little door."
"Can you open it?"
"No."
"Where is it?"
"I don't know."
"Touch the wall."
"I am."
"Move your hand slowly."
Roberto began feeling along the wall.
Nothing.
Then his fingers touched a small metal edge hidden beneath the wallpaper.
He looked at María.
"Get me a knife."
She ran.
Roberto pulled at the wallpaper.
A seam appeared.
He tore it open.
Behind it was a narrow wooden door.
Locked.
He stared.
For seven years, that door had been hidden inside his daughter's bedroom.
And he had never known.
María returned with a fireplace poker.
Roberto took it.
He wedged it between the frame and the lock.
"Step back."
María moved away.
Roberto pulled.
The old wood cracked.
Again.
The lock broke.
The door swung inward.
Behind it was darkness.
A narrow passage.
Cold air came from inside.
Roberto grabbed a flashlight.
"Sofía?"
"Daddy!"
Her voice echoed.
He entered.
The passage was barely wide enough for one person.
The walls were covered with old wooden panels.
There was dust everywhere.
But the floor was clean.
Recently used.
Roberto's heart tightened.
Someone had been using this passage.
Recently.
He followed Sofía's voice.
"Keep talking."
"I'm here."
"Good."
"I can hear you."
"Me too."
He reached another door.
This one was steel.
Locked from the outside.
Roberto's stomach turned.
He tried the handle.
"Sofía?"
"I'm here."
"Are you hurt?"
"No."
"Step away from the door."
She moved.
Roberto kicked it.
The metal barely moved.
He kicked again.
Nothing.
María arrived behind him.
"Sir."
"Find something."
"Like what?"
"Anything."
She ran back.
Roberto pressed his ear against the door.
"Sofía?"
"I'm here."
"Don't be afraid."
"I heard someone."
"Who?"
"A man."
Roberto froze.
"When?"
"Before you came."
"What did he say?"
"He said Daddy would come."
Roberto closed his eyes.
"Did he touch you?"
"No."
"Did he hurt you?"
"No."
"Then stay where you are."
He looked at the lock.
There had to be another way.
He examined the hinges.
Then noticed something scratched into the metal.
Three letters.
E.V.
Elena Vargas.
His heart sank.
The hidden room had belonged to her.
Or someone wanted him to believe it had.
María returned carrying a heavy iron bar.
Roberto took it.
"Move."
He smashed the lock.
Once.
Twice.
Three times.
The steel finally gave.
The door opened.
Roberto rushed inside.
"Sofía!"
She ran toward him.
He dropped to his knees and caught her.
"Daddy!"
He held her tightly.
"I've got you."
She buried her face against his chest.
"I was scared."
"I know."
"I couldn't find you."
"I'm here."
He kissed her hair.
Then looked around the room.
It was small.
Windowless.
A single bed stood against one wall.
A desk.
A chair.
A lamp.
And hundreds of photographs.
Roberto stopped breathing.
Photographs covered every wall.
Photographs of Sofía.
As a baby.
As a toddler.
At school.
In the garden.
Sleeping.
Eating.
Walking.
Laughing.
Crying.
Some had been taken from inside the mansion.
Others from outside.
There were photographs from years before Vanessa entered their lives.
Roberto stared.
"Who took these?"
María whispered:
"I don't know."
Sofía clung to him.
Then said:
"Daddy..."
"What?"
"I know this room."
Roberto looked down.
"What?"
"I've been here before."
His blood ran cold.
"When?"
"When Mommy was alive."
Roberto looked at the walls.
"What happened here?"
Sofía pointed.
"Mommy used to bring me."
"Why?"
"She said it was our secret room."
Roberto stared.
A secret room.
His wife had never told him.
"Do you remember why?"
Sofía shook her head.
"She said Daddy couldn't know."
Roberto's heart broke.
"Why?"
"I don't know."
He looked at the desk.
A small wooden box sat on it.
He opened it.
Inside were letters.
Dozens.
All addressed to Isabella.
Roberto picked one up.
The handwriting was familiar.
His wife's.
He opened it.
Isabella,
If you are reading this, then something has happened.
Roberto's fingers trembled.
He kept reading.
You were right not to trust them.
He stopped.
Them.
Who?
He continued.
The Alvarez family has been hiding this for generations.
Roberto stared at the words.
His father.
His grandfather.
His family.
What had they hidden?
The next paragraph made his blood run cold.
Rafael knows.
Roberto stopped.
His father's name.
He knows what happened to Elena.
He read faster.
He also knows what happened to Baby A.
Roberto's breathing became shallow.
Baby A.
The mysterious child from the DNA report.
He continued.
I don't know whether I can save both children.
His hand tightened around the paper.
Both children.
Two children.
Sofía.
Baby A.
His wife had known.
She had known there were two children.
He turned the page.
There was a second letter.
This one was dated six months before the accident.
Isabella,
I spoke to Daniel.
He says he wants his daughter back.
Roberto stared.
His heart pounded.
Daniel had a daughter.
Baby A.
Then what was Sofía?
He read the next line.
But I refuse to let him take Sofía.
Roberto looked at his daughter.
She was sitting beside María.
He swallowed.
His wife had been protecting Sofía from Daniel.
But why?
He read on.
Sofía is not his daughter.
Roberto stopped.
The room seemed to spin.
Then another sentence.
And she is not Roberto's either.
Roberto's eyes widened.
He dropped the letter.
"No."
María looked at him.
"What does it say?"
Roberto couldn't answer.
He picked it up again.
The final line was written in darker ink.
Sofía belongs to Rafael.
Roberto stared.
His father.
His dead father.
The name on the DNA report.
Everything suddenly connected.
But then another question appeared.
If Rafael was Sofía's biological father...
Why had Isabella married Roberto?
Why had she hidden the truth?
And why had Vanessa been involved?
Roberto turned to the desk.
There was another photograph.
This one was different.
It showed Isabella.
Holding a newborn baby.
Beside her stood Rafael.
But there was another woman in the photograph.
Vanessa.
No.
Not Vanessa.
Elena.
Roberto looked closer.
Elena was holding another baby.
Two babies.
Twins.
His heart stopped.
Two newborn girls.
One in Isabella's arms.
One in Elena's.
On the back was written:
Sofía and Baby A.
Roberto stared at the photograph.
Twins.
He whispered:
"Impossible."
María stepped closer.
"What?"
Roberto showed her.
She covered her mouth.
"Oh God."
Sofía turned her head.
"What happened?"
Roberto immediately hid the photograph.
"Nothing."
But his voice betrayed him.
Sofía knew.
"Daddy?"
"Yes?"
"Are you crying?"
Roberto wiped his face.
"No."
She reached toward him.
He took her hand.
"I love you."
"I love you too."
He pulled her close.
No matter what the DNA said.
No matter who her biological father was.
No matter who she had been before the accident.
She was still his daughter.
That would never change.
Then the lamp flickered.
Once.
Twice.
And went out.
María gasped.
Roberto turned.
A voice came from the doorway.
"That's not the room you were supposed to find."
Roberto spun around.
A man stood in the passage.
Black coat.
Dark face.
Gun in hand.
Roberto stepped in front of Sofía.
"Who are you?"
The man raised the gun.
María screamed.
A shot exploded.
Roberto ducked.
The bullet struck the wall.
The attacker ran.
Roberto chased him.
"Stop!"
The man disappeared into the passage.
Roberto followed.
The corridor seemed endless.
He reached the hidden entrance.
The man was gone.
But something lay on the floor.
A black leather glove.
Roberto picked it up.
Inside was a small metal key.
And engraved on the key were two letters.
R.A.
Rafael Alvarez.
His father.
The next morning, Roberto called Miguel.
"Seal the mansion."
Miguel looked confused.
"Why?"
"Nobody leaves."
"Sir?"
"I said nobody."
"What happened?"
Roberto handed him the key.
Miguel stared.
"Where did you get this?"
"Inside a hidden room."
"Whose room?"
"My wife's."
Miguel looked at the photographs.
His expression changed.
"Sir..."
"Find out who has access to this part of the house."
"I will."
"And Miguel?"
"Yes?"
"Check the old blueprints."
"For what?"
"Hidden rooms."
Miguel frowned.
"How many?"
Roberto looked at him.
"All of them."
Across town, Vanessa sat in a dark room.
Her phone rang.
She answered.
"Did he find it?"
The voice replied:
"Yes."
"Did he see the photograph?"
"Yes."
Vanessa closed her eyes.
"Then it's over."
"No."
"What?"
"He hasn't found the second room."
Vanessa froze.
"There is another?"
"Yes."
"Where?"
"Under the east wing."
Vanessa stood.
"That's impossible."
"You thought the same thing about the first."
She looked toward the window.
"What is inside?"
The voice was silent.
"Tell me."
Finally:
"Everything your husband needs to destroy you."
Vanessa's face went pale.
"Who sealed it?"
"Rafael."
She stopped breathing.
"He's alive?"
"No."
"Then who?"
The voice whispered:
"His son."
Vanessa's eyes widened.
"Roberto?"
"No."
A pause.
"The other one."
Vanessa slowly lowered the phone.
The other one.
The secret son.
The child nobody knew existed.
The child who had disappeared seven years ago.
The child who had been raised under another name.
Vanessa whispered:
"Daniel..."
At the mansion, Roberto stood alone in his study.
He had spread every document across the desk.
DNA reports.
Photographs.
Letters.
Trust documents.
The old foundation records.
Everything.
He placed the two photographs side by side.
Isabella with one baby.
Elena with the other.
Twins.
Then he placed the DNA report beside them.
Daniel Reyes.
Rafael Alvarez.
His father.
His family.
His wife.
Vanessa.
Elena.
Two babies.
Seven years of lies.
He suddenly remembered something.
A conversation with Isabella.
Six months before the accident.
She had been sitting beside him in bed.
She had touched his face.
And whispered:
"If anything ever happens to me, promise you'll protect her."
He had laughed.
"Of course."
She had cried.
He had asked why.
She said:
"Because one day, everyone will tell you that she isn't yours."
At the time, Roberto had kissed her forehead.
"She is my daughter."
Isabella had smiled sadly.
"Promise me."
"I promise."
Roberto closed his eyes.
He finally understood.
She had known.
She had known exactly what would happen.
And she had tried to warn him.
But there was still one thing he couldn't understand.
Why had she allowed Vanessa into their lives?
Why had she trusted Elena?
Why had she created the hidden room?
And why had she hidden one of the twins?
His phone rang.
Unknown number.
He answered.
"Hello?"
A man's voice said:
"Mr. Alvarez."
"Who is this?"
"Someone who knew your wife."
"Name."
"You don't need my name."
"I disagree."
The man laughed.
"You're looking for the second child."
Roberto froze.
"Where is she?"
"Safe."
"Who are you?"
"Someone who wants you to know the truth."
"Tell me."
"Not over the phone."
"Where?"
The man gave him an address.
Then said:
"Come alone."
Roberto frowned.
"Why?"
"Because if you bring security, the child dies."
Roberto's blood ran cold.
"What child?"
Silence.
Then:
"Your other daughter."
The line went dead.
Roberto stood motionless.
His other daughter.
He looked at the photograph of the twins.
One was Sofía.
The other...
Was alive.
And someone had just told him she could die.
Roberto grabbed his coat.
He walked toward the door.
Then stopped.
Because on the desk was the key.
The key engraved with his father's initials.
And suddenly he remembered something.
The hidden room had been locked from the outside.
Not to keep someone out.
To keep someone inside.
Roberto looked toward the hallway.
He whispered:
"What did you hide from me, Father?"
Behind him, the study door slowly opened.
Vanessa stood there.
She was crying.
"Roberto."
He turned.
"What?"
"I know where the other child is."
He stared at her.
"How?"
Vanessa stepped inside.
"Because I was there when she was born."
Roberto's face hardened.
"Who is she?"
Vanessa looked at the photograph.
Then whispered:
"Your wife's first daughter."
Roberto froze.
"What?"
Vanessa looked directly at him.
"Sofía was not the first child Isabella gave birth to."
Silence.
"Then who was?"
Vanessa's voice broke.
"Her twin."
Roberto stared.
"Where is she?"
Vanessa closed her eyes.
"With the man who has been controlling all of us."
"Who?"
She opened her eyes.
And whispered:
"Rafael Alvarez."
Roberto stepped backward.
"My father is dead."
Vanessa shook her head.
"No."
"You're lying."
"I wish I were."
She looked toward the locked room.
"Your father didn't die seven years ago."
Roberto's heart pounded.
"He disappeared."
"Why?"
Vanessa whispered:
"Because everyone believed a dead man was easier to hide than a living monster."
And somewhere beneath the mansion, behind another locked door, a child began to cry.
Roberto heard it.
Vanessa heard it.
They both turned toward the floor.
The sound came again.
A child crying.
Not Sofía.
Another girl.
Another daughter.
And Roberto finally understood the horrifying truth.
The mansion had never been empty.
May you like
It had been hiding someone.
For seven years.
