The numbers climbed slowly—3… 5… 7…
Each second stretching longer than the last.
Victor glanced at Esteban’s reflection in the mirrored wall.
Sweat.
Nervous eyes.
A man who had always been in control… now realizing he wasn’t anymore.
The doors opened on the service floor.
No marble.
No chandeliers.
Just harsh lights, plain walls, and the quiet hum of machines.
Reality.
They walked down a narrow hallway.
And then—
They heard it.
A cough.
Weak.
Strained.
Ximena’s head snapped up.
“Mommy…”
They found her in a small storage room.
Carolina Reyes was sitting on a low stool, one hand pressed against her chest, the other holding a cleaning cloth.
Her face was pale.
Her body trembling.
But she was still working.
Still trying.
Still pushing through.
“Mommy!”
