But not a word came out of it.
Javier watched her for a few seconds.
Then he looked towards the sofa.
Don Ernesto was still seated with one hand on his jaw.
His dentures were still on the floor.
The old man pointed to the camera with a trembling hand.
“Look at her, my son.”
Lucía shook her head.
“Javier, please…” »
Her husband pulled away.
He went to the sideboard.
He took the tablet.
Opened the monitoring app.
And selected the recording of the last five minutes.
A black screen appeared.
Javier waited.
The loading symbol rotated several times.
Then a message appeared.
FILE UNAVAILABLE.
“But what is it…?”
He tried again.
The result was identical.
The camera was connected.
The green light was still shining.
But the recording had disappeared.
Javier slowly raised his head.
Lucía was standing by the door.
Pale.
Lips parted.
He looked at the screen again.
And discovered a warning that he hadn’t noticed.
The recording had been deleted manually.
At 5:42 p.m.
Exactly two minutes before the alleged attack.
Javier felt a shiver run down his spine.
« Lucia… »
She stepped back.
“What?”
“Who deleted the recording?”
It was then that, from the sofa, Don Ernesto uttered five words that completely changed the course of the day.
“Ask him for the red envelope.”
Lucía is petrified.
Javier turned his head towards her.
“What red envelope?”
His wife began to tremble.
For she had just understood that the old man knew much more than she imagined.
And that all this staging had not begun that afternoon.
It had begun six months earlier.
CHAPTER 2. THE RED ENVELOPE
“What red envelope, Dad?”
Don Ernesto did not answer immediately.
He bent down to pick up his dentures.
A simple gesture.
Humiliating.
Javier felt a shame that burned his stomach.
He wanted to help her.
But the old man raised a hand.
“It’s not necessary.”
He slowly straightened up.
He still had trouble speaking.
“Ask your wife to show you what she’s been hiding for weeks.”
Lucía let out a nervous laugh.
“I don’t know what he’s talking about.”
“Yes, you know it.”
Don Ernesto fixes it.
“You know that perfectly.”
Javier set the tablet on the sideboard.
“Someone will explain to me what is going on.”
“Your father is trying to manipulate you,” Lucía replied. He assaulted me and now he wants to make me look like a liar. »
“Then you won’t have any problem showing me this envelope.”
She looked away.
This small movement is enough.
Javier noticed it.
And for the first time since he entered the drawing-room, he began to seriously doubt his wife.
“Lucia.”
“What?”
“Where is she?”
“There is no envelope.”
Don Ernesto pointed to the corridor.
“In the second drawer of your dresser.”
A heavy silence fell over the living room.
Lucía looked at the old man with genuine hatred.
Javier understood that his father did not improvise.
He knew the hiding place.
He knew the object.
And for some mysterious reason, Lucía was terrified.
He went to their room.
His wife tried to follow him.
« Javier, attends ! »
He turned around.
“Stay here.”
It was the first time he had spoken to her with such coldness.
Lucía obeyed.
Not because she wanted to.
But because she knew that a new protest would make her look even more guilty.
Javier entered the marital bedroom.
The piece was spotless.
The pillows perfectly arranged.
The curtains open.
On the dresser was a photograph of their wedding.
Lucía was smiling, a bouquet of white roses in her hands.
He put his arms around her.
He remembered that day.
He remembered his father, who had quietly cried during the ceremony.
He remembered the words that Don Ernesto had spoken to him before entering the church.
“Marriage is not about finding someone perfect, son. It is about finding someone with whom you can tell the truth, even when it hurts. »
Javier had never forgotten this sentence.
Until this afternoon.
He opened the second drawer.
He found handkerchiefs there.
A small jewelry box.
A folder containing documents.
And under several folded clothes, a dark red envelope.
It had no sender address.
Only one word was written by hand.
ERNESTO.
Javier took it between his fingers.
It was closed.
He returned to the drawing-room.
Lucía saw him enter with the envelope and began to shake his head.
“You shouldn’t have taken it.”
“Why?”
“Because it’s not what you think.”
“I don’t even know what to believe yet.”
Javier opened the envelope.
Inside were three documents.
The first bore the letterhead of a notary’s office.
The second contained a bank authorization.
The third was a request for a medical evaluation.
Javier began to read.
At first, he did not understand their meaning.
