Miguel is looking for me. They might be watching you too. I know that. That’s why I want us to meet somewhere neutral, the National Library of Spain, in the rare books room. It’s hardly ever there, especially in the afternoon. I’ll be there tomorrow at 6. Come if you can. There’s something I need to tell you and show you. Show me something I can’t do over the phone, Elena.
Only come if you want to know the truth. It’s not just about you; it’s about Carmen too. The mention of my daughter made me tense up. What about Carmen? Is she in danger? No, not right now. But just come, and be careful. Don’t tell anyone where you’re going, not even your friends. He hung up, leaving me confused and with my heart pounding.
I looked at Pilar, who was sitting next to me and had overheard the whole conversation. “Are you going?” she asked. “I don’t know,” I answered honestly. On the one hand, I need to know what’s going on. On the other, it could be a trap, but it’s a library, a public place. There will be people, cameras. If it were an ambush, I wouldn’t be very smart. You’re right, but she said she won’t tell anyone, not even you.
Why so much secrecy? Maybe he doesn’t want anyone else involved. If what he knows is dangerous, he might be trying to protect you and those close to you. I was lost in thought. It sounded reasonable, but something still bothered me. Something in my father-in-law’s voice, in his words. He mentioned Carmen.
I said, she said this involved her too. What did she mean by that? I don’t know, but if your daughter really could be in danger, you have to find out, Pilar replied. I nodded. You’re right. I’ll go, but I’ll be very cautious. I can come with you, Pilar offered. I’ll stay back a bit, and if anything strange happens, I’ll intervene. No, I shook my head. My father-in-law said I should go alone.
If he sees you, he might not say what he knows. And I need the truth, the whole truth. We spent the rest of the afternoon organizing every detail of the meeting. I decided to take a taxi so I wouldn’t use my car and could go unnoticed. I would arrive early and check out the place. If I noticed anything strange, I would leave immediately.
Pilar would wait for my call. If I didn’t contact her within an hour of our appointment, she would call the police. The night was restless. I barely slept, tossing and turning, mentally replaying everything that had happened in the last few days. In the morning, we went over the plan again, and I called the hospital to ask about Lucía’s condition, but they told me they could only give information to immediate family members. The day dragged on.
I was too nervous to read or watch television. I tried to help Pilar with the housework, but she noticed how upset I was and told me to rest. Finally, it was time to get ready. I put on some simple clothes Pilar lent me: dark jeans, a gray sweater, and a black jacket. I put my hair up in a bun and put on sunglasses.
Although it was a cloudy day, it wasn’t a great disguise, but it was better than nothing. “Keep in touch,” Pilar said, walking me to the taxi. “And remember, if something doesn’t feel right, leave immediately.” “I promise.” I hugged her and got in the car. During the ride, I kept looking out the window, watching to see if any cars weren’t following.
But the streets were full of the usual afternoon traffic, and I didn’t notice anything suspicious. I asked the taxi driver to drop me off a block from the library. I walked the rest of the way, glancing around. The old National Library building stood at the end of the street. Its stone walls seemed to guard thousands of secrets. One of them might have had something to do with me and my family.
I climbed the wide steps and crossed the main entrance. Inside, it was cool and quiet. A few visitors sat in the main room, engrossed in books or their laptops. The librarian at the counter didn’t notice me as I walked past him toward the stairs.
The rare book room was on the third floor. I climbed slowly, my steps soft. There was no one in the hallway. I approached the door and peered inside cautiously. It was a large room with high ceilings and west-facing windows. The sun was just beginning to set, bathing everything in a golden light. The bookshelves formed a labyrinth in which it was easy to get lost.
In the far corner, I saw my father-in-law. He was sitting at a table with his back to the window, so his face was in shadow. In front of him was a folder of documents. I took a deep breath and entered the room. He looked up at the sound of my footsteps. His expression was a mixture of relief and concern.
Elena, he said quietly, you came. Yes, I replied, sitting down across from him. I want to know the truth, the whole truth. He looked around, as if making sure no one was nearby, and pushed the folder toward me. Look at this. I opened the folder and saw photographs. Many photographs. In all of them, Miguel appeared with a woman, having lunch at a restaurant, strolling through the park, entering a hotel.
In some photos they were holding hands, in others they were kissing. “What is this?” I asked, even though I already knew. “Miguel is cheating on you,” he’s said for over a year. “Her name is Alejandra Ríos. She works at one of his nightclubs.” But that’s not all. I turned the page and there were documents, balance sheets, bank statements, contracts. “Miguel’s business is in ruins,” I continued.
Over the past two years, he’s suffered heavy losses. He’s already closed three restaurants, and two clubs are on the verge of bankruptcy. He has debts, huge debts, and some of his creditors aren’t exactly patient or kind. He flipped through the pages, trying to absorb the information, the figures, the graphs—everything pointed to the same thing.
Miguel was on the verge of financial collapse. But what do I have to do with all this? And Carmen. My father-in-law sighed and pulled another document from his inside jacket pocket. Here’s your life insurance policy. Miguel increased the coverage six months ago to three million euros. And he’s the sole beneficiary. I took the document with trembling hands.
Indeed, the amount had been increased, and I remembered signing those papers. Miguel told me then that it was routine, an inflation adjustment. I didn’t think much of it. He wanted to kill me for the insurance. My voice trembled, but three million wouldn’t be enough to save his business if his debts were so large. “It’s not just about the business,” my father-in-law replied quietly.
Is there anything else? The house you live in. According to the documents, it’s in both your names. But there’s a catch. If something happens to you, your share doesn’t go to Miguel, but to Carmen. Miguel asked you several times to change the will. Do you remember? I nodded. Yes, he mentioned it several times in the last year. He said the papers needed updating, that it was normal, but I kept putting it off because I didn’t have the time.
And two weeks ago, he continued, he managed to convince Carmen to sign a power of attorney to manage her assets, including what she might inherit. What? I couldn’t believe it. He did tell her it was to protect her estate from taxes and other problems, that it was for her own good. She believed him. She always trusted her father. I felt a lump rise in my throat. So, if I had died, my share of the house would pass to Carmen, and with that power of attorney, Miguel could do whatever he wanted with it. Sell it, mortgage it. Exactly. She nodded.
Plus the insurance, plus your personal savings, which would also go to Carmen, and therefore to him. Enough to pay off his most dangerous debts and start over with another woman, without a wife in his way. I looked at the documents in front of me and could only think one thing. He wanted to kill me. My husband wanted to kill me.
“¿Pero por qué me estás ayudando?”, pregunté alzando la vista hacia mi suegro. Siempre estuviste de su lado. Él sonrió con tristeza. Quiero a mi hijo Elena, pero no puedo permitir que se convierta en un asesino y no puedo permitir que destruya la vida de Carmen. Es mi nieta y la amo tanto como a mi hijo. Y Lucía, ella sabía todo esto. Mi suegro asintió.
Sí, siempre supo todos sus secretos y lo apoyaba. Nunca te quiso. Pensaba que no eras digna de esta familia. Cuando Miguel le contó sus problemas, fue ella quien le dio la idea, deshacerse de ti y cobrar el dinero. Recordé aquella conversación que escuché por casualidad meses atrás. Tienes que solucionar este problema, Miguel.
¿Hasta cuándo vas a esperar? En ese momento pensé que hablaban de negocios. Ahora entendía que hablaban de mí. Yo era el problema que había que solucionar y mi suegra también estaba al tanto. No, negó con la cabeza. Isabel no sabe nada ni de los problemas financieros ni de los planes de Miguel. Ella cree que simplemente están pasando por una crisis matrimonial. ¿Y ahora qué? Pregunté.
¿Qué hago con todo esto? Tienes que protegerte”, dijo con firmeza y proteger a Carmen. Tengo un abogado de confianza. Puede ayudarte con los documentos. Revocar el poder que Carmen le dio a Miguel. Blindar tus bienes. Tienes que ir a la policía. Pero no tengo pruebas de que él echara algo en mi copa. Si las tienes. Hay una grabación de la cámara de seguridad del restaurante. Yo la vi.
Se ve claramente como Miguel añade algo a tu copa. ¿Viste la grabación? ¿Cómo? Tengo contactos en el restaurante. Pedí el video con la excusa de que quería comprobar si algún camarero había cogido unos gemelos que supuestamente perdí esa noche. Me la dieron y vi. ¿Y qué se ve exactamente? Miguel añade algo a tu copa cuando tú te levantas al baño.
Luego vuelves, te sientas y poco después cambias las copas. La tuya y la de Lucía. Me quedé inmóvil. ¿Lo viste? ¿Y no se lo diste a la policía? No. Hice una copia, pero no la entregué todavía. Quería hablar contigo primero. ¿Por qué? Porque quería entender qué había pasado. ¿Por qué cambiaste las copas? ¿Sabías que Miguel había echado algo? Asentí. Sí, lo vi.
Estaba junto a una columna y lo vi claramente. No sabía qué hacer. Entré en pánico y decidí cambiar las copas. No quería dañar a Lucía, lo juro. Solo quería protegerme. Mi suegro me miró largo rato, luego asintió despacio. Te creo. Y creo que la policía también te creerá, especialmente cuando vean el video. Pero pueden acusarme de intentar envenenar a Lucía.
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