The days blurred into each other, measured only by the clang of gates and the echo of guards' footsteps. Yet, on this particular afternoon, Ana's nerves prickled with restless anticipation. She had been waiting for news from Camila.
When the guard finally appeared at her cell door and barked, "Visitor," Ana's heart leapt.
She followed him down the corridor, every step heavy with both hope and dread. In the small, gray visitor's room, behind the scratched plexiglass, sat Camila Torres. Her dark hair was pulled into a neat bun, her blazer wrinkled as if she'd rushed here. Yet her eyes were sharp and tired, lit up when they met Ana's.
Ana sat down quickly, pressing the phone to her ear. "Please tell me you have something," she whispered, her voice trembling.
Camila exhaled, her tone brisk but reassuring. "I do. And it's both good and dangerous."
Ana's pulse quickened. "What is it?"
"I've been digging into the night your father died," Camila said, glancing around before leaning closer to the glass. "Remember you told me about the figure in his study? The Santiago crest you saw?"
Ana nodded sharply. The memory made her chest tighten. "Yes. I know I wasn't imagining it."
"You weren't," Camila replied firmly. "I found something in the CCTV footage that Mariana conveniently 'forgot' to hand over to the police.
A shadowy figure moving through the back hallway that night. Too blurry to identify, but the timing matches. And the way they avoided the main cameras? That was no accident. Whoever it was knew the house."
Ana's stomach dropped. "So it was someone inside…"
"Exactly," Camila said. "And there's more. I traced the crest. Not many people still wear it. Only a handful of pieces exist, mostly old rings passed down in your family. That limits our suspects."
Ana's hands trembled around the phone. For a moment she couldn't breathe. "Then why am I still here? Why haven't they arrested Mariana or Isabella?"
Camila's eyes softened. "Because Mariana is clever. She's feeding the police narratives, planting doubt, and making you the easiest target.
But listen to me, Ana… I'm not stopping. I've hired a private investigator. We're closing in on the truth."
Ana's eyes stung with tears. "Thank you. I… I don't know what I'd do without you."
"You'll need to stay strong a little longer," Camila urged. "But be careful who you trust in here. Sometimes danger doesn't only exist outside these walls."
The words hit Ana harder than Camila intended.
Her thoughts immediately went to Lucía. The girl with secrets. The girl who claimed she could slip through the prison walls like a shadow.
For days Ana had been debating whether to ask her for help. Now, the weight of Alejandro's absence pressed harder than ever.
When the visit ended and Ana returned to her cell, she found Angel waiting with her usual calm presence. Yet Ana's mind spun too fast for comfort. That night, when the lights dimmed and the prison settled into uneasy silence, Ana turned to where Lucía lounged against the wall, a sly grin tugging her lips.
"Lucía," Ana whispered.
Lucía's eyes sparkled in the faint moonlight. "You finally want to know more about my little adventures, don't you?"
Ana hesitated, her throat tight. "Not exactly. I… I need a favor."
Lucía tilted her head, curious. "What kind of favor?"
"I want you to find something for me. About my husband."
Lucía laughed softly, a sound like glass cracking. "Your husband? I thought prison cured people of worrying about love."
Ana's cheeks burned. "It hasn't cured me of being human. He hasn't visited in weeks, Lucía. And every day I wonder if he's abandoned me. If he's already… moved on."
Lucía's grin faded into something more thoughtful. She studied Ana for a moment before nodding slowly. "And what exactly do you want me to do?"
"I'll give you the address," Ana said quickly. "My father-in-law's house. Alejandro might be staying there. If you can just… watch. See if he's there. If he's alone. Or if…" Her voice cracked. "If he's with someone else."
Lucía's eyes gleamed with mischief, but there was a flicker of something else too intriguing. "You're serious."
"Dead serious," Ana whispered. "But you can't tell Angel. Not anyone. This stays between us."
For a moment, Lucía said nothing. Then, slowly, she leaned back, her grin returning. "You're braver than I thought, Santiago. Risking secrets with me. You don't even know if I'll keep my mouth shut."
"I know enough," Ana whispered. "Because you're not as reckless as you pretend to be. You wouldn't have survived this long if you were."
Lucía chuckled softly, almost impressed. "Maybe you're right." She stretched out, as if savoring the power of the moment. "Fine. I'll do it. Give me the address."
Ana scribbled it onto a torn piece of paper from her tiny prison notebook, sliding it carefully toward her. Lucía tucked it away like treasure.
"I'll find out for you," Lucía murmured. "But remember, Ana… sometimes it's better not to know the truth."
Ana lay awake long after, staring at the bars above her, her heart racing. Maybe Lucía was right. Maybe the truth would break her more than the silence had. But she couldn't endure the gnawing doubt anymore.
She needed to know.
Even if it destroyed her.
***
Later that night, when the cells quieted and the corridors grew heavy with silence, Angel approached Ana's bunk. She lowered her voice so none of the other women could overhear.
"You've been spending a lot of time with Lucía lately," Angel said, her tone steady but lined with suspicion. Her dark eyes searched Ana's face, unblinking. "Should I be worried?"
Ana's stomach twisted. "Worried? About what?"
Angel folded her arms, her expression unreadable. "Lucía isn't like me. She plays her own game. She'll smile, she'll charm you, but her loyalty is only to herself. And I can't shake the feeling you're planning something together. Something risky."
Ana's throat went dry. She forced a shaky laugh. "No, Angel. You're imagining things. We're just… talking. You know, she's closer to my age. Sometimes it's easier to relate to her than to the older women here. That's all."
Angel didn't answer right away. Her gaze lingered, heavy with doubt. "Ana, listen to me. Prison has its own rules.
The moment you start keeping secrets, the moment you start depending on the wrong person… it'll eat you alive. I've seen it happen."
Ana lowered her eyes, guilt pressing hard against her ribs. She couldn't tell Angel about Lucía's offer, not yet. Not until she knew what Alejandro was hiding… if he was hiding anything at all.
"I promise you," Ana whispered, trying to sound convincing. "I'm not doing anything dangerous. I just… need company sometimes."
Angel studied her for another long moment, then sighed and placed a hand on Ana's shoulder. "You're like a sister to me, Ana. Don't forget that. If something happens to you, if you make the wrong move… it'll crush me too."
Ana felt tears sting her eyes. She nodded quickly, swallowing her guilt. "I won't let that happen."
Angel gave her a small, sad smile, then moved back toward her bunk. But Ana stayed awake long after, staring into the dark.
She had lied to Angel. For the first time since meeting her, she had hidden something.
And the weight of that lie pressed down harder than the prison walls themselves.