CHAPTER 4 — THE ASSASSIN NEVER EXPECTED RENATA TO REMEMBER ONE NAME
Rain began falling just after noon.
Tiny drops streaked across the windows of León General Hospital as visitors hurried through the entrance with umbrellas and bouquets of flowers.
Inside Room 417, Renata stared at the gray sky.
Her head throbbed beneath layers of bandages.
Every heartbeat echoed through the fractures in her face.
She reached up carefully.
The left side of her cheek was swollen beyond recognition.
She didn't need a mirror.
She could feel that her life had changed forever.
The door opened softly.
Emiliano stepped inside carrying a paper cup of coffee and a small bouquet of lavender—the same flowers she had planned to carry on her wedding day.
He forced a smile.
"They're not as beautiful as you."
She laughed weakly.
"I probably don't look very beautiful right now."
He knelt beside her bed.
"Don't ever say that."
"I didn't fall in love with your face."
"I fell in love with the woman who always chose kindness, even when nobody chose her."
Tears gathered in Renata's good eye.
"For the first time in my life..."
"I finally believe someone."
Across town...
Octavio Vargas sat alone in an interrogation room.
The attempted murder investigation had already begun.
Detective Isabel Fuentes placed photographs across the metal table.
The broken brick.
Bloodstains.
The shattered phone.
Medical reports.
Witness statements.
Finally, she slid forward one last photograph.
It showed Arturo Salazar standing outside the Vargas home with the old leather folder.
"You knew him."
It wasn't a question.
Octavio stared at the picture.
Twenty-seven years of lies pressed against his chest.
"He should have stayed buried in the past."
Detective Fuentes leaned forward.
"The past has a habit of returning."
Meanwhile...
The man in dark sunglasses entered the hospital without attracting attention.
He wore blue medical scrubs stolen from a laundry cart.
A surgical mask hid most of his face.
Around his neck hung a fake hospital identification badge.
Nobody questioned him.
He pushed an empty wheelchair through the hallway while quietly listening to instructions through a wireless earpiece.
"Fourth floor."
"Room 417."
"No mistakes."
He answered with only two words.
"I understand."
Hidden beneath a folded blanket inside the wheelchair rested a suppressed pistol.
Back inside Renata's room...
Arturo finally arrived.
He looked exhausted.
Years of carrying secrets had aged him far beyond his actual years.
Renata frowned.
"I know you."
Arturo smiled sadly.
"No."
"You only think you don't."
He sat beside her bed and removed a faded photograph from his coat.
It showed a little girl about four years old laughing in a garden.
Standing behind her...
Was Arturo.
And beside him...
A smiling man Renata had never seen before.
She stared at the picture.
Then suddenly froze.
"I've seen him..."
Arturo's eyes widened.
"You remember?"
Renata closed her eyes.
Fragments returned like broken glass.
A birthday cake.
A wooden swing.
Someone lifting her into the air.
A warm voice saying—
"No matter what happens, you'll always be my little star."
Her heartbeat quickened.
"I thought those memories were dreams."
Arturo quietly wiped away a tear.
"They weren't dreams."
"They were stolen from you."
At that exact moment...
The fake nurse reached Room 417.
He looked both ways.
The hallway was empty.
He removed the pistol from beneath the blanket.
Screwed the suppressor into place.
Turned the doorknob.
Slowly.
Silently.
The door opened.
Inside...
The hospital bed was empty.
He frowned.
A voice behind him spoke calmly.
"Looking for someone?"
The assassin spun around.
Detective Isabel Fuentes stood at the end of the hallway with four armed officers.
Behind them...
Emiliano stepped out of another room.
He had recognized the fake identification badge from the security cameras minutes earlier.
The assassin fired once.
The suppressed shot struck a wall.
Police returned fire.
The hallway erupted into chaos.
Patients screamed.
Doctors ran for cover.
The assassin dropped the wheelchair and sprinted toward the emergency stairs.
Three flights below...
He burst through a fire exit into the hospital parking garage.
A black SUV was already waiting.
He jumped inside.
The vehicle sped away before police could reach it.
Detective Fuentes cursed under her breath.
"They had an escape team."
Back upstairs...
Renata was shaking.
She had heard the gunshot.
Arturo took her hand.
"They're afraid."
"Of what?" she whispered.
"The truth."
He looked directly into her eyes.
"Someone is willing to kill you before you learn your real name."
That evening...
Forensic officers searched the abandoned wheelchair.
Inside one of its hollow metal tubes...
They discovered a tiny waterproof capsule.
Detective Fuentes opened it carefully.
Inside was a single folded note.
Only six handwritten words appeared on the paper.
DON'T LET THE SALAZAR HEIR LIVE.
The detective's face hardened.
"This isn't just about inheritance anymore."
"This is an organized conspiracy."
Before anyone could speak...
Her phone rang.
She answered immediately.
After only a few seconds...
The color drained from her face.
"What?"
She listened in silence.
Then slowly lowered the phone.
"Arturo Salazar's house..."
"...was set on fire twenty minutes ago."
One officer whispered,
"Was anyone inside?"
Detective Fuentes looked toward Arturo.
"They found one body."
Arturo's breathing stopped.
Because only one person had been inside the house when he left that morning.
His longtime housekeeper...
The woman who had helped him protect Renata's secret for twenty-seven years.
But as firefighters searched the ruins...
They uncovered something no one expected.
Hidden beneath a loose floorboard was a second leather folder.
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Across the front, written in Gabriel Salazar's own handwriting, were chilling words:
"Open this only if they try to kill my daughter a second time."
