My son never lied. Dolores looked at the modest house, the empty yard, the mango tree. Martín Reyes had seen something that night. He had proof, and someone had made him disappear, so the question was, was he still alive?
In an exclusive restaurant in the city center, Gonzalo Fuentes and Judge Aurelio Sánchez were having dinner in a private room.
The tension was palpable. “That lawyer is asking too many questions,” Aurelio said as he cut his steak.
He visited the prison, spoke with the warden, went to the home where the girl is being held, and now I know he went to San Jerónimo. Gonzalo stopped eating. San Jerónimo, why would he go there?
The gardener’s mother lives there; the one who disappeared. Martín is dead.
We made sure of that. Are you sure? We never found the body. What if he talked before we reached him?
What if he left something that could incriminate us? Gonzalo felt a cold sweat run down his back. What do you suggest? Your brother’s execution is in 48 hours.
