PART 2
Mariana didn’t confront Alejandro right away. She saved the video, left Sofía with her friend Daniela, and reviewed every recorded movement. At 9:40 a.m., once she’d left, Alejandro fully opened the walk-in closet. He shifted several suits aside and pressed a panel Mariana had never noticed. Behind it was a small utility room, sealed off during a past renovation: a folding mattress, water bottles, a portable battery, anxiety medication, and a backpack.
Alejandro emerged looking gaunt, ate standing in front of the refrigerator, and cried while staring at a family photo. Afterward he made a call in the yard. No audio, but he was clearly arguing with someone. Minutes later he packed his backpack and left the house.
Mariana went with Daniela to the Andares corporate tower where her husband worked. The receptionist assured her Alejandro had been in Monterrey for weeks and that Ricardo Salgado, the regional director, had personally authorized the project. But his office was locked, his favorite plant had dried up, and no one could produce a single video conference recording of the supposed northern team.
At the bank, Mariana pulled the transactions from the shared card. Daily charges at hotels and restaurants in Monterrey — but all at identical times, for identical amounts. Scheduled transactions built to fabricate an alibi.
When he called back, she asked, “How’s Monterrey?”
—Heavy. I’m driving toward the plant.
—That’s strange. I saw you on camera leaving our house with a backpack.
The silence stretched so long Mariana heard the wind on the other end.
“Forgive me,” he whispered. “I didn’t mean to do it.”
—You hid to spy on me. You used our daughter to ask who she was seeing. Why?
Alejandro started crying. He said he’d been pressured, that everything was more dangerous than it looked, and that she shouldn’t go looking for Teresa. Then he hung up.
Ten minutes later, Teresa showed up with a grocery bag and her usual fake smile.
Mariana let her in and played the video on the television. Teresa’s face went pale.
“Yes,” she finally admitted. “I arranged the trip and convinced Alejandro to stay in that room. We needed proof.”
—Proof of what?
“That you’re cheating on my son. A woman like you wouldn’t take long to replace him.”
Teresa confessed she’d hired a private investigator to photograph Mariana with a colleague and had also fabricated romantic messages. She’d wanted Alejandro to catch her with another man, file for divorce, get custody of Sofía, and be free to pursue Renata Salgado, the company director’s daughter.
“Ricardo covered for the trip,” Teresa said proudly. “If Alejandro marries Renata, he becomes general director. You’re the only obstacle.”
Mariana quietly turned on her phone’s recorder.
—What if I was never unfaithful to you?
—Then we’d have had to create the situation ourselves. The investigator could plant evidence, whatever was needed. No one believes a woman from your background over a family like ours.
At that moment the front door opened. Alejandro stood there, pale, backpack in hand.
He’d heard the entire confession.
But before he could speak, Teresa smiled and delivered a threat that froze them both.
—If you choose Mariana, tomorrow you lose your job, this house, and any chance of ever seeing your daughter again.
