Chapter 6
The call had ended.
But that man's voice kept echoing in my head.
"You shouldn't have told him that."
I stood there staring at my phone screen.
My first reaction was to call my mother again.
Once.
Twice.
Three times.
No response.
With each call that went to voicemail, a worse feeling grew inside me.
It wasn't just fear.
It was the feeling that I was getting closer to a truth that someone had spent years trying to hide.
I went home that night without telling anyone.
My mother always said that our little house was the place where nothing bad could reach us.
But at that moment, for the first time, I walked through the door feeling that even that place held secrets.
She wasn't in the room.
I wasn't in the kitchen.
I wasn't in the room.
- Mother?
My voice echoed through the empty house.
Then I heard a noise coming from the back.
It was her.
Sitting near the window.
Holding a small, old box in his hands.
When he saw me, his eyes filled with sadness.
— You're back.
I didn't answer.
I just looked at the box.
Because I knew.
She had something there.
Something he never showed me.
What's inside?
My mother pressed the box against her chest.
For a few seconds, it seemed as if she was fighting against her own memory.
— Things from your father.
Those words made my heart race.
Why didn't you ever show me?
She lowered her gaze.
Because I promised.
— For him?
She nodded.
I sat in the chair opposite her.
I wanted to scream.
I wanted to ask why she hid that for so many years.
But when I saw her face, I realized something.
My mother was also someone trapped in that story.
Mom, I need to know the truth.
She remained silent.
Then he placed the box on the table.
It opened slowly.
Inside there were old photographs.
Documents.
It was an object that made me stop breathing.
It was a badge.
I got it.
It was written on it:
"Educational Research Institute - Horizon Project."
My father.
That name was there.
Not like a regular employee.
But as the director responsible for the project.
"Did he create this?" I asked.
My mother nodded.
Your father believed that students like you shouldn't miss out on opportunities just because they didn't have money.
I ran my fingers over the name tag.
Suddenly, everything made sense.
Old books.
The hours in the library.
My desire to create different ways of learning.
Perhaps it didn't just appear out of nowhere.
Perhaps it was something that was part of my own story.
But one question remained.
Who tried to take that away from him?
My mother closed her eyes.
— Your uncle.
The world seemed to stop again.
I didn't want to hear it.
But I needed to.
His brother?
She nodded.
His name is Ricardo.
That name brought back an old memory.
A man smiling in photos from my childhood.
Someone my mother always said helped us when we went through tough times.
Did he know everything?
My mother took a deep breath.
He was the only person his father trusted.
The sentence confused me.
Then why?
She looked at the photograph of my father.
Because some people start out wanting to help.
A pause.
— And they end up believing that they deserve everything they helped to build.
I kept staring at her.
Did he steal the project?
My mother took a while to reply.
That wasn't all.
My heart raced.
What else happened?
She took another document out of the box.
It was an old sheet of paper.
But this time there was a signature.
I recognized it immediately.
Ricardo.
My uncle.
At the end of the document there was a date.
The same period in which my father disappeared.
Gabriel...
My mother held my hand.
— Your father discovered that Ricardo was trying to take control of the project.
I looked at the document.
And he tried to stop it?
She nodded.
- Yes.
A heavy silence filled the room.
Then I asked:
What happened that night?
My mother stood motionless.
It was as if that question was the only one she had spent years trying to avoid.
That night...
She stopped.
Her eyes filled with tears.
Your father came home before he disappeared.
I felt my body tense up.
He spoke to me.
— About what?
She looked at me.
— About you.
My heart ached.
He knew he might not come back.
I couldn't answer.
My mother opened a drawer in the box and took out a small letter.
He left this for you.
My hands were trembling when I picked it up.
The envelope had my name on it.
The same lettering as the previous message.
I opened it slowly.
Inside there were only a few lines.
"Gabriel, if one day you are reading this, it means that I wasn't able to be by your side to see the man you've become."
I stopped.
My vision became blurry.
I continued reading.
"But there's something you need to know. The biggest danger has never been losing the project."
I'll turn the page.
And there was one last sentence.
A phrase that made my heart race:
"The greatest danger was discovering that the person who wanted to destroy everything didn't want the project."
A pause.
"And yes, I wanted to prevent you from discovering who you really are."
I looked up at my mother.
What does that mean?
She didn't answer.
Because at that moment, the sound of a knock came from the door.
One.
Two.
Three times.
My mother turned completely pale.
I had never seen that expression on her face before.
It was fear.
Real fear.
"Who is it?" I asked.
She didn't answer.
The beat came again.
Stronger.
Then a male voice came through the door.
A calm voice.
A familiar voice.
Helena... I know Gabriel is there.
My mother held my hand tightly.
And he whispered:
He found you.
I looked at the door.
And at that moment I understood.
The person who spent so many years hiding the truth...
May you like
I had finally come to retrieve the last thing my father left me.
I.
