Chapter 5 - The Snake in the Room
Valeria hurried back to the nursery, her pulse pounding in her ears. She closed the heavy mahogany door, locked it from the inside, and leaned against the wood, trying to catch her breath.
Mateo was sitting on the plush carpet near the window, quietly stacking wooden blocks. Without the purple tincture in his system from the night before, his eyes were clear, his breathing light and steady. When he saw Valeria enter, he dropped his blocks, stood up on his small legs, and walked over to her.
He didn't scream. He didn't hit.
He simply reached up, took Valeria’s hand in his tiny palm, and leaned his head against her knee.
Valeria dropped to her knees, pulling the little boy into a warm embrace. "You knew, didn't you, Mateo?" she whispered, her eyes burning with tears. "You knew who hurt your mami."
Mateo hid his face in her neck, his tiny body trembling slightly.
She walked over to the drawing table in the corner of the room. Sitting under a stack of construction paper was the drawing Mateo had made earlier that morning. She pulled it out and stared at it under the afternoon light.
The drawing was unmistakable.
A silver car surrounded by black figures. A red smudge representing blood. And standing next to the driver's side door was a man drawn in black crayon, with a jagged red line across his neck and a bright yellow eagle ring on his hand.
It wasn't a random rival cartel that had ambushed Sofia Ríos two years ago.
It was her own brother. Hector Ruiz.
Hector had murdered his sister, staged it as a rival attack, and then used Dr. Peralta to poison Mateo to ensure the only eye-witness to the murder remained mute, unstable, and unable to name him!
Before Valeria could think through her next move, a soft knock echoed on the nursery door.
"Valeria?"
It was Doña Socorro’s voice.
Valeria quickly folded the drawing and slipped it inside the waist band of her trousers, pulling her grey apron over it to hide the bulge. She walked to the door and unlocked it.
Doña Socorro stepped into the room, holding a tray with a fresh bowl of chicken soup and a small glass of water. Her face was unusually serene, a tight, artificial smile stretched across her lips.
"The Patrón has stepped out of the estate for an urgent matter in the city," Doña Socorro said, setting the tray on the low table. "He asked me to ensure you and the boy had a quiet evening. I prepared this soup for Mateo myself."
Valeria looked down at the soup. A faint, oily sheen floated on the surface of the broth—the same subtle metallic scent she had smelled on the linen napkin the night before.
They knew.
Or at least, they were getting desperate. With Alejandro away at the warehouse interrogating Dr. Peralta, Hector and Doña Socorro were trying to administer a fatal dose to silence the child before Alejandro discovered the truth!
"Thank you, Doña Socorro," Valeria said, forcing her voice to remain completely steady. "I will make sure he eats all of it."
"I will wait here to ensure he finishes," Doña Socorro said, taking a seat in one of the velvet armchairs near the door. Her eyes were cold, calculated, and fixed on Valeria. "We cannot afford any more disruptions to his diet."
Valeria felt a cold wave of sweat break out across her back. She was trapped in the room with a woman who was actively trying to poison a child, while Alejandro was miles away at an industrial warehouse.
"Of course," Valeria said softly.
She picked up the silver bowl and spoon, walking over to Mateo. She sat on the carpet with her back turned partially away from Doña Socorro, shielding Mateo with her body.
"Look, Mateo," Valeria said loudly, pretending to blow on a spoonful of hot soup. "It’s warm soup."
She brought the spoon close to her mouth, pretending to take a sip, but instead let the liquid drain into the thick fabric of her heavy wool apron. She did it again and again, pretending to feed the boy while absorbing the poisoned broth into her clothes.
Doña Socorro watched from the chair, her arms folded, satisfied that the boy was consuming the meal.
Suddenly, the house’s heavy security sirens began to blare.
BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!
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Red emergency lights flashed along the crown molding of the ceiling. The heavy iron shutters over the nursery windows began to slam shut automatically, plunging the room into darkness lit only by the flashing red alarm strobes.
From the hallway outside, the muffled sound of gunfire erupted.
