Chapter 4 - The Venom of the Past
The revelation hit Clara like a physical blow. She stumbled backward, the wooden chair scraping loudly against the floorboards.
Her father.
The man who had beaten her, ridiculed her, and ultimately sold her for 50 pesos to a "deaf man" wasn't just a miserable drunkard and a gambler. He was a cold-blooded murderer.
"No..." Clara whispered, shaking her head in denial. "No, he's a coward, a pathetic drunk, but a murderer? He couldn't..."
"He did," Santiago said softly, rising from his seat to comfort her. "He sold you to me not because of a 50-peso debt, Clara. Think about it. Why would a man sell his own daughter to a crazy mute on a secluded mountain?"
Clara’s mind spun as the puzzle pieces violently crashed into place.
The bartender Ruiz was her father's creditor. Her brother Mateo had made the "bet." It wasn't a bet at all. It was a calculated move.
"They knew," Clara whispered, her eyes wide with sudden comprehension. "They knew the parasite’s toxin eventually kills its host. They knew you were getting sicker, Santiago. They expected you to die alone on this mountain. And by marrying me to you..."
"...they would inherit this land," Santiago finished, his jaw clenching. "This mountain ranch sits directly on top of the old entrance to the Hacienda de la Cruz gold vein. With me dead and you as my widow, your father and Ruiz could easily force you to sign the land over to them. They didn't just sell you, Clara. They set us both up to be erased."
Before Clara could speak, the distant, unmistakable sound of horses' hooves echoed through the night.
Santiago’s newly restored hearing picked it up first. He stiffened, his head snapping toward the shuttered window.
"Someone is coming," he whispered. "Multiple horses. Moving fast."
Clara’s heart leaped into her throat. "Is it them?"
"We need to hide," Santiago said, his voice calm but commanding. He blew out the kerosene lamp, plunging the cabin into absolute darkness.
They crept to the window, peering through the narrow cracks of the wooden shutters. Through the moonlight-drenched agave fields, three figures on horseback were approaching the cabin.
Even from a distance, Clara recognized the arrogant, slouched posture of her brother, Mateo, riding alongside the heavy-set bartender, Ruiz, and another man wearing the shiny tin star of the town sheriff.
"They're coming to check if I'm dead yet," Santiago whispered, his hand gripping the hilt of a rusted machete he kept by the door.
"What do we do?" Clara whispered, her body trembling with a mix of terror and boiling rage. "If they see you can hear, if they see you're alive and well..."
"They will kill us both right here and bury us in the agave fields," Santiago said. He turned to her, his eyes shining in the dark. "We play their game, Clara. For just a little longer. You must act as the grieving, terrified bride. Let them think the 'deaf man' is on his deathbed."
"And you?"
Santiago grimaced, a dark, dangerous smile touching his lips. "I will be the corpse they didn't expect to bite back."
The horses came to a halt outside the cabin. The heavy thud of boots marched up the wooden porch steps, followed by a loud, arrogant kick against the front door.
"Clara!" Mateo’s voice shouted from the other side, dripping with false concern and malice. "Clara, open up! We heard the crazy man had an attack! We've come to help you!"
Clara looked at Santiago. He nodded, stepping back into the shadows of the bedroom, concealing his machete beneath the thin mattress.
May you like
Clara took a deep, shaky breath, ruffled her hair to look disheveled and terrified, and unlocked the heavy wooden bolt.
The door swung open, and the cold night wind rushed in, carrying the scent of cheap tequila and impending doom.
