CHAPTER 2: THE LOCKED ROOM
The metallic click of the lock echoed through the hallway like a gunshot.
Mariana stood frozen outside Doña Consuelo’s bedroom door.
For several seconds, she couldn't move.
Couldn't breathe.
Couldn't believe what she had just heard.
Camila had locked an elderly woman inside her own room.
From the outside.
Like a prisoner.
Like an inconvenience that needed to be hidden away.
Mariana slowly approached the door and placed her hand against the wood.
"Doña Consuelo?" she whispered.
For a moment, there was no answer.
Then came a faint voice.
"I'm here, querida."
The weakness in the elderly woman's tone made Mariana's chest ache.
"Are you alright?"
A dry laugh came from inside.
"No."
The answer was simple.
Honest.
Heartbreaking.
Mariana glanced down the hallway to make sure Camila wasn't nearby.
Then she leaned closer.
"Why is she doing this to you?"
Silence.
Long silence.
When Doña Consuelo finally answered, her voice trembled.
"Because I'm in the way."
Mariana frowned.
"In the way of what?"
Again silence.
Then:
"Money."
The word sent a chill through Mariana's body.
Money.
Of course.
Everything suddenly made terrible sense.
The medications.
The isolation.
The lies.
The fake concern.
The nursing home brochure.
Camila wasn't caring for Doña Consuelo.
She was preparing to get rid of her.
A floorboard creaked behind Mariana.
She jumped.
Camila stood at the end of the corridor.
Watching.
Smiling.
Not a warm smile.
A warning.
A predator's smile.
"Mariana."
The housekeeper immediately stepped away from the door.
"Yes, señora?"
Camila walked toward her slowly.
Elegant.
Perfect.
Dangerous.
"You seem very interested in my mother-in-law."
Mariana lowered her eyes.
"I'm only doing my job."
Camila stopped inches away.
"Then do your job."
The words sounded gentle.
The threat beneath them was not.
That night Mariana couldn't sleep.
She lived in a small maid's room above the garage.
Usually she was exhausted after work.
Usually she fell asleep instantly.
Not tonight.
Tonight she kept seeing Doña Consuelo's eyes.
The fear.
The loneliness.
The desperation.
Around midnight she made a decision.
If nobody else would help the old woman...
She would.
The next morning Mariana arrived earlier than usual.
Camila was still upstairs.
Santiago had already left for a business meeting.
The mansion felt strangely quiet.
Mariana prepared breakfast.
Fresh fruit.
Toast.
Coffee.
And secretly, she assembled a second tray.
Eggs.
Warm bread.
Orange juice.
A bowl of oatmeal.
The kind of breakfast a starving woman needed.
She carried it upstairs.
Her heart pounding.
When she reached Doña Consuelo's room, she discovered something unexpected.
The door was unlocked.
Mariana entered quietly.
The elderly woman sat beside the window.
Still wearing yesterday's sweater.
Still staring at the garden.
But when she saw the tray, tears immediately filled her eyes.
"Oh..."
Mariana set the food down.
"You need to eat."
Doña Consuelo looked at her as if nobody had spoken kindly to her in years.
Then she began eating.
Not slowly.
Not carefully.
Hungrily.
Terribly hungrily.
Like someone afraid the food might disappear.
Mariana had to look away.
Because she suddenly wanted to cry.
Halfway through the meal, Doña Consuelo lowered her spoon.
"Thank you."
Mariana smiled.
"You don't have to thank me."
The elderly woman shook her head.
"Yes, I do."
Her eyes grew distant.
"You remind me of someone."
"Who?"
"My daughter."
Mariana blinked.
"Santiago has a sister?"
Doña Consuelo's expression changed.
Fear flashed across her face.
Real fear.
Before she could answer, footsteps echoed in the hallway.
Camila.
The old woman immediately fell silent.
The bedroom door swung open.
Camila entered.
And stopped.
Her eyes landed on the breakfast tray.
Then on Mariana.
The room became ice cold.
Nobody spoke.
Nobody moved.
Finally Camila smiled.
Again that terrible smile.
"Leave us."
Mariana hesitated.
"Now."
The housekeeper obeyed.
But as she stepped into the hallway, she heard something that made her blood freeze.
Camila's voice.
Low.
Controlled.
Threatening.
"If you keep causing problems, I'll make sure nobody believes a single word you say."
Then the door slammed shut.
Mariana stood there trembling.
And for the first time, she realized something horrifying.
Camila wasn't merely neglecting Doña Consuelo.
She was actively terrorizing her.
Later that afternoon, Mariana began searching.
Carefully.
Quietly.
She checked garbage bins.
Office drawers.
Storage rooms.
Anywhere Camila might overlook.
Hours passed.
Then she found it.
Hidden inside a filing cabinet in Santiago's study.
A thick folder.
Labeled:
CONSUELO ARANDA — MEDICAL ASSESSMENT.
Mariana opened it.
Her stomach dropped.
Every page contained lies.
Advanced dementia.
Severe confusion.
Cognitive decline.
Inability to manage personal affairs.
Permanent supervision recommended.
Mariana stared in disbelief.
None of it matched the woman she spoke with every day.
Doña Consuelo remembered names.
Dates.
Conversations.
Details from decades ago.
She wasn't confused.
Someone was making her appear confused.
Then Mariana found the final page.
And everything became clear.
Power of Attorney Transfer.
If Consuelo Aranda were declared mentally incompetent...
Control of her personal fortune would transfer to her legal caretaker.
Camila Aranda.
The amount listed below made Mariana gasp.
Thirty-eight million dollars.
Her hands began shaking.
This wasn't about care.
This wasn't about family.
This was about inheritance.
And someone was willing to destroy an old woman's life to get it.
Suddenly she heard footsteps.
Close.
Very close.
Mariana barely had time to shove the folder back into the cabinet before Santiago entered the office.
He looked exhausted.
His tie hung loose.
Dark circles shadowed his eyes.
He noticed Mariana immediately.
"What are you doing here?"
Her heart raced.
Thinking quickly, she held up a dust cloth.
"Cleaning, señor."
He nodded distractedly.
Then sat at his desk.
For a moment Mariana considered telling him everything.
Everything she had seen.
Everything she had discovered.
But what if he didn't believe her?
What if Camila convinced him she was lying?
What if she lost her job before she could help Doña Consuelo?
So she remained silent.
And walked away.
That evening, however, something happened that changed everything.
While cleaning the upstairs hallway, Mariana heard voices coming from behind a partially closed door.
Camila.
And another woman.
A lawyer.
Mariana froze.
Listening.
"...the dementia report should be enough," the lawyer said.
"And Santiago?"
"He'll sign."
Camila laughed softly.
"He always signs."
The lawyer lowered her voice.
"What about the mother?"
A pause.
Then Camila answered.
Coldly.
Without hesitation.
"If that old woman doesn't eat, even better."
Mariana's blood turned to ice.
Camila continued.
"She'll stop being a burden sooner."
Silence followed.
The lawyer sounded uncomfortable.
"That's a dangerous thing to say."
Camila laughed again.
"Relax. Nobody's recording."
Mariana looked down at the phone hidden in her apron pocket.
The recording app was running.
Every word.
Every sentence.
Every confession.
Captured.
Her hands trembled.
She had proof.
Real proof.
And for the first time since arriving at the mansion...
Mariana realized she might actually be able to save Doña Consuelo.
She just had to survive long enough to expose the truth.
Unfortunately, someone else had already realized she was becoming a problem.
And later that night, as Mariana returned to her room above the garage...
She discovered the door was open.
She was certain she had locked it.
Inside, every drawer had been emptied.
Every belonging searched.
And sitting neatly on her pillow was a single note.
Three words.
STOP ASKING QUESTIONS.
The note wasn't signed.
It didn't need to be.
Because Mariana already knew exactly who had left it.
And she knew something else too.
May you like
Camila was no longer merely hiding a crime.
She was now hunting the only witness who could stop her.
