Silence, he had learned, could hide anything—pain, lies, decay. It had settled into his mansion after his wife’s death like a permanent guest, spreading from room to room until even the walls seemed to whisper less. The clocks still ticked, the staff still moved, the children still breathed… but life, real life, had withdrawn quietly, leaving behind something polished and hollow.

—What are you saying?

-The truth.

Roberto felt the ground begin to move beneath his feet.

He remembered that day perfectly.

Gertrudis had told him that a girl from the village had arrived, recommended by a former nurse. That she needed the job. That she was discreet. That she wouldn’t ask questions.

Roberto, exhausted, accepted without checking too much.

Now each of those decisions burned within him like guilt.

“I want to hear everything,” he said. “But one false word and I’ll call security.”

Elena nodded slowly.