PART 2 — THE WOMAN WHO KNEW MY MOTHER’S SECRET

The words hit me like a physical blow.

I stepped backward.

“What did you say?”

“Your mother was killed.”

The room went completely silent.

All the sounds from outside disappeared.

The music.

The wind.

The voices of the guests leaving the wedding.

Everything.

“My father told me she lost control of the car.”

“I know.”

“He said she was tired.”

“I know.”

“He said nobody could have prevented it.”

Celia closed her eyes.

“Because that’s the story he created.”

I felt anger rising inside me.

“You’re saying my father killed my mother?”

“I’m saying your mother discovered something she was never supposed to know.”

“What?”

Celia looked at me.

“Your father had another family.”

I stared at her.

“No.”

“He had debts. Enemies. Secrets.”

“No.”

“He was using your mother’s name and inheritance to protect himself.”

I shook my head.

“No, you’re lying.”

Maybe I said it because I believed it.

Or maybe because accepting the truth was too painful.

Celia didn’t fight me.

She just whispered:

“I hoped you would never have to know.”

I looked at the photograph again.

My mother’s face.

Her smile.

The woman I barely remembered.

And suddenly, I noticed something.

Something I had never seen before.

A necklace around her neck.

A small silver pendant.

The same pendant Celia wore every day.

I looked up.

“Why do you have my mother’s necklace?”

Celia touched it.

Her fingers trembled.

“Because she gave it to me the night before she disappeared.”

My breathing became uneven.

“Why?”

“Because she knew she might not survive.”

I felt tears forming in my eyes.

My entire life had been built on a story someone else wrote.

A story where my mother was gone.

My father was innocent.

And Celia was just a wealthy stranger who loved me.

But now everything was changing.

“Why did you marry me?” I asked.

That was the question burning inside me.

“Was it because of my mother?”

Celia looked devastated.

“No.”

“Then why?”

She walked closer.

“Because when I first saw you, I saw her.”

I looked away.

“That’s not an answer.”

“It is.”

“No, it isn’t.”

Celia’s voice broke.

“Efraín, I spent thirty years looking for you.”

I froze.

“What?”

“After your mother died, you disappeared from my life. Your father changed everything. He moved you away. He destroyed every connection you had to her past.”

She wiped away a tear.

“I searched for you. I wanted to tell you the truth. But every time I got close, someone stopped me.”

“Who?”

Celia didn’t answer.

And that scared me more than anything.

“Who stopped you?”