CHAPTER 2 — THE LITTLE GIRL WHO NEVER STOPPED TELLING THE TRUTH
Mónica had always believed that children were easy to manipulate.
She would soon discover that children were far more dangerous than adults.
Because adults learned to lie.
Children didn't.
The next morning, the Mendoza mansion awoke beneath gray clouds that seemed to press against the enormous windows like a warning.
For the first time in years, breakfast was untouched.
Fresh fruit.
Warm sweet bread.
Hot chocolate with cinnamon.
Everything remained exactly as the cooks had placed it.
Four-year-old Sofía sat quietly in her chair, clutching the faded stuffed rabbit Laura had sewn back together after the original stuffing had fallen out.
She wasn't crying anymore.
That frightened everyone even more.
Children who stop crying often carry pain too deep for tears.
"Sweetheart," Santiago said gently, kneeling beside her. "Can Daddy make you pancakes?"
No answer.
"Should we go feed the horses?"
Nothing.
"Would you like to visit the butterfly garden?"
Still silence.
Finally...
Without looking at him, Sofía spoke.
"Laura always cut my strawberries into little hearts."
Santiago froze.
The plate in front of her held perfectly sliced strawberries.
Just not heart-shaped.
He suddenly realized something horrifying.
He had spent three years living in the same house as Laura.
Yet he barely knew the thousands of tiny acts of love that had quietly filled every one of Sofía's days.
By noon, the family's pediatrician arrived.
After examining Sofía, he asked Santiago to step into the hallway.
"I've reviewed her physical condition," the doctor said carefully.
"She's healthy."
"Then why won't she eat?"
The doctor hesitated.
"Because she's grieving."
Santiago frowned.
"I didn't tell her Laura was gone forever."
"You didn't have to."
The doctor's voice softened.
"Children don't fear change."
"They fear abandonment."
"And to Sofía..."
"...Laura wasn't an employee."
"She was the safest person in her world."
The words landed like stones.
"You should prepare yourself."
"For what?"
"If this continues, she may stop speaking altogether."
Santiago felt the blood drain from his face.
The exact same thing had happened after his wife's death.
He had sworn...
Never again.
That evening, Mónica arrived carrying expensive gifts.
Designer dolls.
Imported chocolates.
A pink princess castle that cost more than most families earned in a month.
She entered the playroom wearing an elegant white dress and a flawless smile.
"Look what Aunt Mónica brought."
Sofía slowly looked toward the enormous pile of presents.
Then she quietly asked,
"Can they bring Laura back?"
Mónica's smile twitched.
"No, sweetheart."
"Then I don't want them."
She turned away.
Mónica forced a laugh.
"Oh, children forget quickly."
"They always do."
But before anyone could answer...
Sofía looked directly into her.
Her bright green eyes suddenly seemed much older than four years.
"No."
"I remember everything."
The room became silent.
Mónica felt an unfamiliar chill crawl across her back.
Later that night...
Santiago wandered through the security office.
He wasn't searching for anything specific.
He simply couldn't sleep.
The head of security noticed him.
"Good evening, sir."
Santiago nodded absentmindedly.
His eyes drifted toward dozens of surveillance screens covering every corner of the estate.
Then something caught his attention.
One camera overlooked the nursery hallway.
Its recordings automatically archived every thirty days.
An impulse he couldn't explain made him ask,
"Can we review footage from two weeks ago?"
The technician immediately pulled up the files.
The images appeared.
Nothing unusual.
Servants walking.
Gardeners passing.
Deliveries arriving.
Then...
Laura.
She carried sleeping Sofía in her arms after the little girl had fallen asleep reading fairy tales.
She kissed the child's forehead before gently placing her in bed.
Santiago smiled despite himself.
That was exactly the kindness he remembered.
The footage continued.
Laura quietly tucked the blanket around Sofía.
She adjusted the nightlight.
She whispered something impossible to hear.
Then she turned...
And unexpectedly noticed someone standing in the hallway.
Mónica.
The timestamp read:
11:42 PM.
Laura politely smiled.
Mónica didn't smile back.
Instead...
She stepped directly into Laura's path.
The camera had no audio.
Only images.
But body language needed no translation.
Mónica pointed aggressively toward the staircase.
Laura calmly shook her head.
Mónica moved closer.
Her finger jabbed toward Laura's chest.
Laura tried walking away.
Mónica grabbed her wrist.
Santiago leaned forward.
"What happened after that?"
The technician switched to another camera angle.
This one overlooked the library corridor.
Laura pulled her arm free without pushing.
Without yelling.
Without reacting.
She simply walked away.
Mónica stood perfectly still.
Watching her leave.
Then...
Something unexpected happened.
Mónica looked around to make sure nobody was watching.
Except...
The camera was.
She slowly reached into her handbag.
Removed her own pearl bracelet.
Dropped it onto the hallway carpet.
Then calmly walked away.
Santiago's heartbeat accelerated.
"What day was this?"
The technician checked.
"Fourteen days before Miss Laura was dismissed."
Santiago remembered exactly what happened the following morning.
Mónica had tearfully reported that her expensive bracelet had disappeared.
She hadn't accused Laura directly.
She had simply suggested...
"Maybe someone in the staff needed money."
The entire household had been searched.
Laura had quietly emptied every drawer in her room.
Nothing was found.
At the time...
Santiago believed it was an unfortunate misunderstanding.
Now...
His stomach twisted.
Had Mónica planned that entire scene?
Across town...
Laura couldn't sleep either.
She kept staring at the drawing Sofía had somehow sent.
Finally...
She turned it over once more.
This time...
She noticed something hidden.
Pressed lightly into the paper.
Almost invisible.
Not crayon.
Pencil.
Tiny numbers.
B-17
Below them...
A crooked little star.
Laura suddenly remembered.
Months earlier, during one of their treasure games, she and Sofía had created secret hiding places all around the estate.
Each location had a code.
"B-17."
Laura whispered.
"The blue box..."
"...inside the old greenhouse."
Her breathing stopped.
Only Laura...
And Sofía...
Knew what was hidden there.
Unless...
Someone else had already found it.
The following morning, before sunrise...
A black SUV quietly stopped outside the abandoned greenhouse at the far edge of the Mendoza estate.
One figure stepped out wearing black gloves.
Flashlight in hand.
The person walked directly toward the loose brick marked with a tiny blue butterfly.
As if they already knew exactly where to look.
Hidden behind the trees...
Another person watched silently.
Holding a camera.
Waiting.
Because whoever reached that blue box first...
Would uncover a secret capable of destroying lives.
And neither of them realized...
A frightened little girl had already hidden something inside that box weeks earlier.
Something she called...
May you like
"Daddy's truth."
End of Chapter 2…
