Chapter 8
Ricardo arrived at the station twenty minutes later.
Alvarez placed an old birth certificate on the table.
Camila’s name appeared under Mother.
The child was a boy.
Lucas Mendes.
Born eleven years earlier.
Ricardo stared.
“Camila had another child?”
“Yes.”
“That’s impossible.”
“The record is authentic.”
“What happened to him?”
“That’s what we’re trying to determine.”
The father’s name was blank.
Ricardo called Mateo immediately.
Mateo knew nothing.
Neither did Sofia.
Then Ricardo called Robert Mendes, Camila’s uncle.
Silence followed.
“You know,” Ricardo said.
Robert sighed.
“I promised Camila.”
“She’s dead.”
“I know.”
“Bia is already living inside the damage caused by everyone’s promises.”
Robert finally spoke.
Camila had become pregnant at seventeen.
Before Gabriel.
Before Bia.
Helena had been furious.
She forced Camila to leave school for several months and told everyone she was visiting relatives.
After Lucas was born, Helena arranged a private adoption.
“Did Camila agree?” Ricardo asked.
“At seventeen? Under Helena’s roof? I don’t know what agree means in that situation.”
Ricardo closed his eyes.
“Who was the father?”
Robert hesitated.
“Mateo.”
Ricardo felt the floor disappear beneath him.
“Mateo?”
“Yes.”
That meant Bia had a brother.
And Mateo had another child he might not know existed.
Ricardo called him to the station.
Mateo stared at the certificate for almost a full minute.
Then he turned pale.
“No.”
“Did you know Camila was pregnant?”
“She told me she lost the baby.”
Ricardo’s anger flared.
“Helena lied to you too.”
Mateo sat down hard.
“Where is he?”
“We don’t know.”
Records showed the adoption had been sealed.
But investigators found payments from Helena to the private attorney who arranged it.
The same attorney later helped create H.S. Consulting.
Victor’s network reached farther back than anyone expected.
Over the next week, police traced the adoption.
Lucas had been placed with a couple in another state.
His adoptive parents had died in a boating accident four years earlier.
After that, he had entered guardianship with a relative.
The relative’s name stunned everyone.
Victor Salazar.
Ricardo stared at Alvarez.
“You’re telling me Victor has been raising Camila’s son?”
“On paper, yes.”
“Why?”
“Money may be part of it.”
Lucas had inherited from his adoptive parents.
A large amount.
Much of it was now missing.
Ricardo felt physically sick.
Helena and Victor had not simply exploited Camila.
They had built a system around vulnerable family members.
Secret children.
Hidden inheritances.
Fear.
Control.
Mateo walked outside and vomited.
Ricardo followed.
“My son.”
Mateo leaned against the wall.
“I have an eleven-year-old son.”
“Yes.”
“And Victor raised him.”
“Yes.”
“What does Lucas know?”
“We don’t know.”
They found Lucas two days later.
He was staying at a private boarding school.
Victor had paid tuition in advance.
When investigators spoke with him, Lucas seemed confused rather than afraid.
He believed Victor was his godfather.
He had been told his biological mother died when he was born.
When Ricardo saw the boy’s photograph, his heart broke.
Lucas looked like Camila.
Same eyes.
Same smile.
Bia stared at the picture.
“That’s my brother?”
Ricardo nodded.
“Half-brother.”
“Does he know me?”
“Not yet.”
“Does he know Mommy?”
“He knows her name now.”
Bia held the photograph.
“Can I meet him?”
That decision took lawyers, therapists, investigators, and time.
Eventually, Lucas agreed.
The first meeting happened in a quiet family center.
Bia entered holding Camila’s doll.
Lucas sat across from her.
Neither child spoke.
Then Bia said, “Our mom lied a lot.”
Ricardo nearly choked.
Lucas blinked.
“So did everyone around her.”
Lucas looked down.
“I thought she didn’t want me.”
Bia walked closer.
“I thought she only had me.”
He looked at her.
“Was she nice?”
Bia’s face crumpled.
“She was the best.”
Lucas started crying.
Bia sat beside him.
“I can tell you about her.”
He nodded.
For the first time since the funeral, Ricardo felt something other than anger.
Not happiness.
Possibility.
Then Lucas reached into his backpack.
“I have something.”
He pulled out an old envelope.
“Victor told me never to open this.”
Ricardo’s heart started pounding.
“Who gave it to you?”
“Helena.”
May you like
On the front, written in Camila’s handwriting, were four words.
FOR BOTH MY CHILDREN.
