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Chapter 2 - The Whispers of the Past

The tension in Cárdenas Tower reached a breaking point the next morning. Mrs. Herrera stood in the kitchen, her hands shaking slightly as she handed Elena a set of gold keys.

"He wants you to clean his private quarters today," Mrs. Herrera whispered, glancing nervously over her shoulder. "All of it. Including... that room."

Elena paused, holding the heavy brass key. "The locked room at the end of the hall?"

"Yes," Mrs. Herrera breathed. "No one has set foot in there since the accident three years ago. His wife, Sofia, and his little girl, Isabella... they vanished in a violent storm off the coast of Cabo. The car went over the cliff into the ocean. The mother's body was recovered... but little Isabella was swept away by the current. Her body was never found."

Elena’s heart dropped. "Never found?"

"Never," Mrs. Herrera said sadly. "Mr. Cárdenas spent fifty million dollars searching the coast for six months. Nothing. He locked that bedroom, left everything exactly as Isabella left it, and banned anyone from touching it. If he is telling you to open it now... it means he is testing you again. Or he is going mad."

Armed with the key, Elena walked down the quiet, carpeted hallway of the second floor. The red oak door at the end seemed to radiate an eerie coldness.

When she inserted the key and turned the lock, the heavy door creaked open.

Inside, time had stopped. Dust motes floated in the dim sunlight filtering through drawn velvet curtains. A wooden rocking horse stood in the corner. Stuffed animals lined the shelves. A white crib sat near the window, filled with small blankets.

Elena stepped inside softly. As she dusted the dresser, her eye caught a medical file tucked beneath a stack of children's storybooks. It bore the seal of the Monterrey General Hospital Pediatric Ward.

Curiosity overcame her. She opened the folder. Inside were blood work charts and DNA genetic markers for Isabella Cárdenas.

Elena’s eyes widened as she read the rare blood type and genetic markers printed on the paper: AB Negative with a rare Kell-antigen deficiency.

Her breath hitched. That blood type...

Suddenly, the door slammed open.

Rodrigo stood on the threshold, his frame filling the doorway, dark fury radiating from his eyes.

"I told you," he hissed, stepping into the room like a predator, "never to touch my personal belongings. You are just like the rest of them. Greedy. Nosy. Insignificant."

"Mr. Cárdenas, please—" Elena backed away, holding the file against her chest.

"Hand it over!" he demanded, extending a trembling hand. "You have crossed a line, Elena. Pack your things. You're fired."

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"Wait!" Elena cried out, her voice echoing in the silent room. "This blood type... Kell-antigen deficiency... it's one in a million. My grandmother... she isn't my real grandmother. She adopted me from an orphanage in Veracruz when I was a child. But my little sister—the one who died in my arms in the hospital eight years ago—had this exact rare blood anomaly!"

Rodrigo froze. The color drained from his face completely. "What did you say?"

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