Hours later, an officer returned with a sealed box.
Inside were documents, photographs and a USB flash drive.
The first photo left us frozen.
Rubén appeared next to a burly man that I didn’t know, in a black shirt and gold chain. Behind them, blurry, was my dad, as if he had taken the photo without them realizing it.
On the back, with my dad’s handwriting, it said:
“If something happens to me, Lucía didn’t go.”
My mom put her hands to her face.
I couldn’t look at her.
Because those words had been around for six years, waiting in a drawer, while she counted the days until she died.
The USB stick had videos from the workshop.
In one, Rubén received wads of money from that same man.
In another, they moved unregistered auto parts, stolen license plates, boxes without invoices.👉 Read the Full Story
Then came the audio.
My dad’s voice rang from a small, tired but firm horn:
“Rubén, this is over today. Tomorrow I’m going with the police.”
Then my uncle’s voice, cold, unknown:
“You don’t understand who you’re messing with, Arturo.”
A knock was heard.
A chair crawling.
My dad screamed.
Then silence.
My mom started crying without making a sound.
I felt like I was short of breath.
But when I thought nothing could get worse, they opened the door.
A guard hurried in and whispered something to the director.
The director looked towards us.
“Rubén Ramírez just asked to speak with Sofía.”
I raised my head.
My mom screamed:
“No. Don’t leave her alone with him.”
But I was already standing.
Because for the first time in six years, I didn’t want to run away.
I wanted to hear from his mouth how far the lie went.
PART 3
Rubén was sitting in a small room, with his hands on the table and two officers behind him.
He no longer seemed like the strong guy who made decisions for everyone. He looked like an old man, sweating, with his shirt stuck to his neck and his eyes full of pent-up rage.
