Chapter 4 - The Little Girl Who Carried My Father's Name
I couldn't speak.
The room seemed to tilt.
Lucía looked at me.
"Why are you crying?"
I didn't know.
I had no answer.
Gabriel closed the door.
"Sit down."
I didn't sit.
"Explain."
He nodded.
"Your father had an affair."
I laughed bitterly.
"That's your explanation?"
"No."
He looked at Lucía.
"Your father had a second family."
My knees weakened.
Lucía was my half-sister.
Five years old.
The little girl who had asked me for leftovers.
The little girl who had helped me believe I could walk.
The little girl my father had promised to protect.
"Does she know?"
Gabriel shook his head.
"Not fully."
Lucía looked confused.
"Know what?"
I couldn't tell her.
Not yet.
Gabriel explained that Sofia had been my father's secret partner.
When she became pregnant, my father wanted to acknowledge the child.
But my grandmother objected.
The family business would be affected.
The scandal would destroy the company.
So Sofia was sent away.
My father secretly created the foundation to protect her and other children.
But Rafael and Gabriel discovered the money being stolen.
Sofia found evidence.
Then she disappeared.
My father died before he could fix it.
Or so we thought.
"What happened to Sofia?"
Gabriel looked at me.
"She died last year."
My chest hurt.
"How?"
"Illness."
"Did she know about Lucía?"
"She left her letters."
I looked at Lucía.
She was drawing a blue bird.
"What does the bird mean?" I asked.
"My mamá said it means home."
I looked away.
I couldn't tell her.
Not yet.
Gabriel handed me an envelope.
"Your father left this for you."
I opened it.
Alejandro,
I made terrible decisions.
Some cannot be forgiven.
But Lucía is innocent.
She deserves the chance to grow up without carrying my shame.
Protect her.
Not because she's your sister.
Because she's your family.
I cried.
For the first time since my accident.
Not because of my legs.
Because my father had trusted me with a child I didn't know existed.
The next morning, I told Lucía.
Not everything.
Just enough.
"Your mother loved you very much."
"I know."
"She wanted you safe."
"I know."
"She asked me to take care of you."
Lucía looked at me.
"Are you my family?"
I nodded.
She smiled.
"Good."
I laughed through tears.
She hugged me.
The doctors continued therapy.
My progress accelerated.
I could stand for almost a minute.
Then two.
I began taking steps with parallel bars.
Lucía counted.
"One."
I stepped.
"Two."
Again.
"Three."
Again.
"Four."
The room filled with applause.
I looked at her.
She clapped harder than anyone.
"You did it."
I shook my head.
"We did."
Then the door opened.
A man in a black suit entered.
"I represent the Romero family trust."
I frowned.
"What do you want?"
He handed me documents.
"Your father's will."
I read it.
He had left me control of every charitable foundation.
Every property.
Every account.
Except one.
The final section was sealed.
"Why is this sealed?"
"Because it requires both your signature and Lucía's."
"She's five."
"Exactly."
I looked at him.
"What's inside?"
"A trust."
"For her."
"Yes."
"And what happens when she turns eighteen?"
"She receives everything."
"How much?"
He answered.
"Enough to make her one of the wealthiest young women in Spain."
I stared at Lucía.
She was more interested in drawing.
None of this mattered to her.
She wanted food.
A warm bed.
Someone to come back.
Then I understood why people wanted her.
Not because she knew the ledger.
Not because she was my sister.
Because my father had built a fortune around her future.
The people who stole the charity money had been trying to access her inheritance.
Rafael hadn't kidnapped her.
He had been hiding her.
Gabriel hadn't betrayed us.
He had been protecting her.
The true enemy remained.
And I knew his name.
Rafael's old partner.
A man named Victor Sanz.
He had vanished after my father's death.
Now he was back.
And he wanted the trust.
That night, I received a message.
You have something that belongs to me.
I replied:
No.
He answered:
Then I'll take what you love.
A photo appeared.
María.
My housekeeper.
Taken outside the clinic.
May you like
I felt my blood turn cold.
The game had changed.
