Chapter 10 - The Billionaire Who Had Been a Prisoner Finally Turned the Experiment Into a WeaponThe biomedical conference filled the arena.
Thousands attended.
Scientists.
Investors.
Politicians.
Journalists.
Television cameras.
Ambrose stood at the center.
Behind him was a glass enclosure.
Lucía.
She wore a simple white dress.
Her tiny hands were pressed against the glass.
I stood backstage.
In a suit.
Without a wheelchair.
My legs trembled.
Not from paralysis.
From anger.
Ambrose approached.
“Ready?”
“No.”
He smiled.
“You'll thank me.”
“I'll destroy you.”
He laughed.
“You still believe you're in control.”
“No.”
I looked toward Lucía.
“She is.”
The presentation began.
Ambrose told the audience a story.
A tragic accident.
A miraculous recovery.
A child with extraordinary neurological sensitivity.
He painted himself as a visionary.
A healer.
A scientist.
I almost laughed.
Then he brought me onstage.
The audience gasped.
I walked.
Slowly.
One step at a time.
The cameras captured everything.
Ambrose smiled.
“Observe.”
“Five years ago, Mr. Romero was told he would never walk again.”
He turned toward Lucía.
“This child changed everything.”
The audience applauded.
I stepped toward the microphone.
“I have something to say.”
Ambrose's smile disappeared.
The screens behind me changed.
Instead of promotional material, they showed Project Lumen records.
Children.
Names.
Deaths.
Payments.
Experiments.
Doctors.
Politicians.
Ambrose.
The audience erupted.
Ambrose shouted:
“Stop the transmission!”
Too late.
The information had already been released worldwide.
I looked into the cameras.
“This is not a miracle story.”
“This is a crime.”
Ambrose's men rushed toward me.
Security stopped them.
Then Dr. Laurent appeared.
He tried to shut down the system.
I confronted him.
“How many children?”
He froze.
“Answer.”
He broke.
“Thirty-two.”
“Deaths?”
“Twelve.”
The room went silent.
Ambrose screamed.
“You fool!”
The police entered.
Federal investigators.
Medical regulators.
International authorities.
For the first time, Ambrose looked afraid.
He grabbed Lucía.
I moved.
But Lucía spoke.
“Don't.”
She looked at him.
“You lost.”
Ambrose froze.
She reached out.
Touched his hand.
Then whispered:
“You don't get to hurt anyone anymore.”
Maybe it was coincidence.
Maybe not.
Whatever happened next, Ambrose suddenly collapsed.
Doctors rushed toward him.
He had suffered a heart attack.
The police arrested him at the hospital.
The entire Project Lumen network collapsed within twenty-four hours.
The children who survived were given protected identities.
Families received compensation.
Research was transferred into a nonprofit medical foundation.
And Lucía was finally free.
But my recovery wasn't complete.
My muscles remained weak.
My nerves unpredictable.
I could walk, but long distances exhausted me.
Some days I needed a cane.
Some days I needed a wheelchair.
I was okay with that.
I had learned something.
Walking wasn't the same as being whole.
Healing wasn't the same as becoming who I used to be.
It meant becoming someone new.
A month later, the doctors found something remarkable.
The neural pathways remained active.
The process was continuing.
My body was learning.
I was getting stronger.
And Lucía was helping me.
Every afternoon, she placed her hands on my knees and said:
“Wake up.”
And I walked.
One day, I took twenty-seven steps.
The next day, thirty-five.
Then fifty.
María cried the first time I crossed the room alone.
I laughed at her.
She hit my shoulder.
“Let me cry.”
“Fine.”
That evening, I received a message.
A final one.
From my father.
Your brother would have wanted you to keep walking.
I stared at the screen.
Then deleted it.
Not because I was angry.
Because I no longer needed messages from the past.
I was living in the present.
Until Elena arrived.
She looked frightened.
“There is one last problem.”
“What?”
“Ambrose had another partner.”
“Who?”
She handed me a file.
The name was Rafael Romero.
My uncle.
May you like
He was still alive.
And unlike Ambrose, he had never been arrested.
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