Chapter 2: The Woman in the Portrait
Chapter 2: The Woman in the Portrait
Valeria's heart pounded so loudly she was certain whoever stood outside the bedroom could hear it.
The key scraped against the lock.
Mateo's small fingers dug into her wrist.
His wide eyes pleaded with her.
Don't make a sound.
The doorknob turned.
Valeria quickly pulled Mateo behind the heavy velvet curtains beside the window. They crouched together in silence, barely daring to breathe.
The bedroom door opened.
A narrow beam of light swept across the room.
Someone entered.
Not Alejandro.
Not one of the guards.
It was Doña Socorro.
The elderly housekeeper carried a fresh bouquet of white lilies in one hand and a lantern in the other.
She closed the door quietly behind her.
For a long moment, she simply stood in the middle of the room.
Then she looked toward the large portrait hanging above the fireplace.
It was Elena Ríos.
She wore a simple white dress, her dark hair flowing over her shoulders, one hand resting gently on young Mateo's head.
Her smile seemed warm enough to brighten the entire room.
Doña Socorro sighed.
"I'm still keeping my promise, Señora Elena," she whispered.
"I haven't let anyone erase you."
Valeria exchanged a surprised glance with Mateo.
The old woman slowly removed the wilted flowers from the crystal vase and replaced them with fresh lilies.
She dusted every picture frame.
Straightened the blankets on the untouched bed.
Adjusted the rocking chair by only an inch.
Every movement was careful.
Respectful.
Almost sacred.
When she finished, she gently touched the edge of Elena's portrait.
"I wish you had told him the truth before it was too late."
Valeria frowned.
The truth?
Before she could think further, Doña Socorro suddenly turned toward the curtains.
Valeria froze.
The elderly woman stared for several seconds.
Then, to Valeria's surprise, she smiled softly.
"I know you're here."
Silence.
"You don't have to be afraid."
Slowly, Valeria stepped out, still holding Mateo's hand.
"I'm sorry," she said quietly. "I didn't mean to disobey."
Doña Socorro wasn't angry.
She looked at Mateo instead.
"So... you finally brought someone."
The little boy lowered his eyes.
"You knew?" Valeria asked.
"I've known for years where he hides whenever the nightmares become too much."
Valeria looked around the room again.
"Everyone said no one was allowed in here."
"That's what Mr. Ríos believes."
"You've been taking care of this room all along?"
The old woman nodded.
"Every Monday."
"Why?"
"Because Elena asked me to."
Valeria blinked.
"But she..."
"Died."
Doña Socorro finished the sentence herself.
"Yes."
She walked toward the fireplace and picked up a silver picture frame.
"When Elena realized her life was in danger, she made me promise that this room would never be changed."
Valeria felt a chill.
"In danger?"
Doña Socorro's expression darkened.
"She knew someone wanted to silence her."
Before Valeria could ask another question, footsteps echoed faintly outside the hallway again.
This time they were heavier.
Faster.
Doña Socorro immediately became tense.
"You must leave."
"What?"
"Now."
"But you just said—"
"I said leave."
Her voice became unusually sharp.
"If Alejandro finds you here tonight, he'll lock this room forever."
Valeria looked at Mateo.
He didn't move.
Instead, he walked to the large portrait of his mother.
Very gently...
He touched the lower right corner of the frame.
Click.
A tiny compartment opened behind it.
Valeria stared in disbelief.
Inside rested a small leather notebook tied with a faded blue ribbon.
A journal.
Doña Socorro gasped.
"No..."
She rushed forward.
"I've searched for that for two years."
Valeria carefully picked it up.
The leather cover was worn with age.
Embossed in delicate gold letters were two initials.
E.R.
Elena Ríos.
The journal felt heavier than it should.
As Valeria untied the ribbon, something slipped onto the floor.
A photograph.
It showed Elena sitting in the mansion's garden with a smiling Mateo on her lap.
Standing behind them was Alejandro.
All three looked genuinely happy.
But someone else appeared in the background.
A man whose face had been scratched away with something sharp.
Again.
And again.
Until only torn paper remained.
Valeria picked up the picture.
"Who is this?"
Doña Socorro's face instantly turned pale.
"I don't know."
She answered too quickly.
Valeria noticed.
"So you do know."
The old housekeeper looked away.
"I've already said too much."
Mateo suddenly reached for the journal.
Instead of opening it...
He hugged it tightly against his chest.
Then, for the first time since entering the room, he made a sound.
Not a word.
A frightened whimper.
His body began shaking uncontrollably.
Valeria knelt beside him.
"It's okay."
He looked up at her with tears forming in his eyes.
Then he pointed toward the secret door hidden behind the painting.
Again.
Again.
Again.
His finger wouldn't stop trembling.
Valeria followed his gaze.
"What is behind that door?"
Doña Socorro didn't answer.
She couldn't.
Her silence said everything.
Very slowly, she whispered,
"Whatever you do..."
"...don't open it tonight."
At that exact moment, another voice echoed from somewhere outside the bedroom.
"Socorro?"
Alejandro.
His footsteps were approaching.
Doña Socorro quickly placed the journal back into Valeria's hands.
Her eyes filled with urgency.
"Hide it."
"What?"
"Don't let anyone know you've found it."
"But why?"
"Because if the wrong person discovers Elena's journal..."
She looked toward the hidden door.
"...someone else in this family may not survive long enough to tell the truth."
Three sharp knocks echoed through the bedroom.
"Aunt Socorro?" Alejandro called through the door.
May you like
"Are you inside?"
The doorknob began to turn.
