Chapter 3: The Gardener Who Never Forgot
Chapter 3: The Gardener Who Never Forgot
Three sharp knocks echoed through the bedroom.
"Aunt Socorro?" Alejandro called from outside. "Are you in there?"
The doorknob rattled.
Doña Socorro reacted instantly.
She gently pushed Valeria toward the hidden space beside the wardrobe.
"Quick."
Valeria slipped the leather journal beneath her uniform apron and took Mateo's hand. Together, they squeezed into the narrow alcove just as Doña Socorro opened the bedroom door.
Alejandro stepped inside.
His sharp eyes immediately scanned the room.
"You came here again."
"I always do," Doña Socorro answered calmly.
Alejandro sighed as he looked around the untouched bedroom.
"I've told you countless times... keeping this room exactly the same isn't helping anyone."
"No," she replied softly. "It helps me remember."
For several long seconds, neither of them spoke.
Alejandro walked to Elena's portrait and stared at it.
"I failed her."
His voice was barely above a whisper.
"I couldn't protect her."
Doña Socorro lowered her eyes.
"You loved her."
"It wasn't enough."
He rubbed his forehead, exhausted.
"I don't even know how to help my own son anymore."
Behind the wardrobe, Mateo quietly reached toward the narrow opening.
He wanted to go to his father.
Valeria gently squeezed his hand.
"Not yet," she whispered.
Alejandro took one last look around the room before walking toward the door.
"Lock it when you leave."
"I will."
The door closed behind him.
Only after his footsteps faded into the distance did everyone breathe again.
Doña Socorro leaned against the wall.
"He almost never comes here."
Valeria carefully stepped out.
"You called him your nephew."
The older woman nodded.
"My sister was Alejandro's mother."
"So you've been with this family your whole life?"
"Almost."
Valeria glanced down at the journal hidden beneath her apron.
"I think Elena wanted someone to find this."
"I know."
"Then why hide it?"
Before Doña Socorro could answer, Mateo tugged gently on Valeria's sleeve.
He pointed toward the hallway.
Then toward the staircase leading downstairs.
"He wants you to leave," Doña Socorro explained.
"He knows the night guards change shifts in five minutes."
Valeria looked surprised.
"How would he know that?"
A faint smile crossed the old woman's face.
"Because he notices everything."
The following morning, the mansion appeared perfectly ordinary.
Servants polished silver.
Gardeners trimmed hedges.
Security guards patrolled the grounds.
No one would have guessed that a hidden journal now rested beneath Valeria's folded clothes inside the guest room.
She had barely slept.
Questions raced through her mind.
Who was the man whose face had been scratched out of the photograph?
Why had Elena hidden her journal?
And what was behind the secret door?
As she carried fresh towels toward the laundry room, she noticed someone working alone near the rose garden.
An elderly gardener with weathered hands carefully pruned Elena's favorite white roses.
Unlike the other employees, he didn't seem afraid.
He simply worked quietly.
His name tag read:
Esteban.
As Valeria passed, he spoke without looking up.
"The boy smiled today."
She stopped.
"You noticed?"
"I notice everything."
His weathered face finally lifted.
Kind eyes met hers.
"You must be the young woman everyone's talking about."
Valeria smiled politely.
"I'm just trying to help."
"So was Elena."
The mention of Elena caught her attention immediately.
"You knew her?"
"I planted these roses with her."
He gently brushed dirt from his gloves.
"She loved this garden."
Valeria hesitated.
Then lowered her voice.
"Can I ask you something?"
Esteban glanced toward the security cameras before nodding.
"Walk with me."
Together they moved deeper into the gardens, where the sound of flowing fountains drowned out quiet conversations.
After several moments, Valeria asked,
"Did you believe Elena's death was just an ambush?"
The old gardener stopped walking.
His expression became serious.
"No."
"You didn't?"
"I've worked for this family for thirty-eight years."
He looked toward the mansion.
"I've seen many things."
"What do you mean?"
"The official story never made sense."
Valeria's pulse quickened.
"Why not?"
Esteban bent down and clipped another rose.
"Because Elena wasn't supposed to be on that road."
Valeria frowned.
"What?"
"The route changed at the last minute."
"Who changed it?"
"I don't know."
"But someone inside this house told her driver to take another road."
Valeria felt a chill spread through her body.
"Are you saying someone leaked her location?"
Esteban nodded slowly.
"I've believed that for two years."
"Did you tell Alejandro?"
The old man gave a sad smile.
"I tried."
"What happened?"
"He wouldn't listen."
Valeria couldn't blame him.
A grieving husband consumed by anger and loss might not have been able to hear accusations without proof.
Esteban reached into the pocket of his gardening vest.
He pulled out a small silver locket.
"I found this near the front gate the morning after Elena's funeral."
Valeria examined it.
It was old.
Beautifully engraved.
On the inside was a tiny photograph of Elena holding baby Mateo.
"What is this doing with you?"
"I planned to return it."
He looked toward the mansion again.
"But before I could..."
He paused.
"Someone warned me to stay quiet."
Valeria's eyes narrowed.
"Who?"
"I never saw his face."
"But I recognized his voice."
She leaned closer.
"Whose voice was it?"
Before Esteban could answer, a black SUV rolled through the front gates.
Every security guard immediately straightened.
Alejandro had returned from an early business meeting.
As the vehicle stopped, the rear passenger door opened.
A man in an expensive charcoal suit stepped out behind Alejandro.
Tall.
Confident.
Perfectly groomed.
The moment Esteban saw him, the color drained from his face.
His hands began to shake.
"No..."
Valeria followed his gaze.
"Do you know him?"
The gardener whispered just four words.
"That's the voice I heard."
Valeria looked at the stranger.
He smiled warmly as he shook Alejandro's hand.
To everyone else, he appeared to be nothing more than a trusted family adviser.
But the fear in Esteban's eyes told a very different story.
Before entering the mansion, the man suddenly turned his head.
His eyes locked onto Valeria.
He smiled.
A calm, polite smile.
Then, almost imperceptibly...
He tapped two fingers against the brim of his hat.
A silent gesture.
One that made Esteban stumble backward in terror.
Valeria didn't understand the meaning of the signal.
But she knew one thing with absolute certainty.
The man had recognized her.
May you like
And somehow...
He already knew she had started asking questions.
