The Escayola that hid death

PART 4: THE NIGHT OF THE TRAITORS

Miguel ran to the phone before anyone could stop him.

Mom! Mom, it's me!

The woman in the video lifted her head again. Her face was pale, marked by fatigue, but her eyes lit up when she heard her son's voice.

Miguel… run away…

The word came out weakly.

Tomás turned to her and made an impatient gesture.

— Always dramatic, Clara.

Augusto almost snatched the phone from Marta's hands.

Thomas, if you touched him…

"Be careful, uncle. You're still in a hospital bed. Strong emotions can be fatal. Or at least that's what your doctors have been writing in their reports."

The irony was so cold that Helena began to cry even louder.

Augusto didn't blink.

What do you want?

Tomás moved his face closer to the camera.

— What has always been mine by right. Control of the Valente group. Shares in the foundation. The laboratories. The hotels. The final signing of the transfer.

Never.

So maybe Clara will stop being a breathing problem.

Miguel shouted:

- No!

Augusto looked at the boy, and for the first time his anger broke into guilt. Because that cry wasn't just fear. It was a lifetime of losses trying to prevent the next one.

Thomas continued:

The boy has something that belongs to me.

Miguel held the bracelet.

- No.

— I'm not talking about the bracelet, young man. I'm talking about the second envelope.

Miguel froze.

Augusto realized.

Is there another envelope?

The boy did not answer.

Thomas smiled.

— He didn't tell you? Clever. Clara taught him well. But frightened children make mistakes. Give me the second envelope and I'll tell you where she is.

Marta approached Augusto and murmured:

We cannot negotiate without knowing the content.

Thomas heard.

Marta Sampaio. Always loyal. It's a shame that loyalty is such an unprofitable quality.

"And betrayal was so predictable," she replied.

Tomás's smile disappeared for a second.

Then the call dropped.

The image went black.

Miguel stared at the blank screen.

He's going to kill her.

Augusto held her shoulder.

I won't allow it.

Miguel moved away abruptly.

— You already allowed it once.

The phrase hit Augusto hard.

No one in the room spoke.

The boy was trembling, but this time not from fear. It was anger. A small anger, dirty with rain, fueled by years of hunger and broken promises.

My mother tried to come back. She tried to talk to you. She tried to send letters. She tried to prove she was alive. And you were all up here, in your gilded rooms, deciding who could come in and who should stay outside.

Augusto lowered his eyes.

— You're right.

The response disarmed Miguel.

- I…

"You're right," Augusto repeated. "I built walls so high that my own daughter couldn't get over them."

Miguel breathed with difficulty.

Duarte entered again.

Sir, we have a bigger problem. The internal system is compromised. Elevators are blocked. Service doors are locked. Some employees are removing documents from the administration office.

Marta turned to Augusto.

They are cleaning up evidence.

Augusto looked at Álvaro.

Who still works for Tomás?

Álvaro remained silent.

Duarte signaled to the security guards to take him away.

Perhaps he'll speak at the police station.

Álvaro laughed.

Do you think the police will arrive before Tomás erases everything?

Miguel raised his head.

I know another way.

Everyone looked at him.

Which way?

— Through the technical corridors. Behind the laundry rooms. There's an old staircase that goes up to the server room. I used it to get close to the VIP wing.

Duarte frowned.

This doesn't appear on modern maps.

"Because they closed it when they did the renovation," Miguel said. "But the door was never completely blocked. You just need someone small to get through."

Augusto realized it immediately.

- No.

Miguel stared at him.

- Yes.

— You're a child.

— I was a child too, when I slept on the street.

I'm not going to use you as a tool.

Then use me as your grandson.

The word silenced Augustus.

Miguel also seemed startled to have said it. But it had already been said. And now it breathed between the two of them like a truth still undocumented.

Marta spoke carefully:

We need to get to the server room before they delete the files. If there are recordings, transfers, and communications, they might be there.

Duarte added:

— I can take two men. The boy will guide us to the entrance of the passage, then stay behind.

Miguel shook his head.

— There's no room for big men in there. Only me.

Augusto closed his eyes.

Each decision seemed to push him toward the same mistake: letting someone in his family walk alone into a darkness he couldn't control.

Clara had done this eleven years ago.

Now it was Miguel's turn.

"You're not going alone," said a weak voice.

Everyone turned around.

Dr. Helena was standing.

Her face was disfigured, but her eyes finally seemed human.

— I know the technical wing. I can take you to the server room door.

Álvaro shouted:

Helena!

She ignored him.

"Tomás promised to protect us, but he's going to kill us too. I saw the contract. As soon as Augusto was declared incompetent, all the doctors involved would be replaced. Some would disappear with the money. Others would simply vanish."

Augusto looked at her with disdain.

— And you want to save yourself now?

"I want to live," Helena said. "And perhaps, for the first time, do something that isn't cowardly."

Miguel didn't trust her. It was written all over his face.

"If she tries anything," he said, "I'll scream."

Duarte handed him a small walkie-talkie.

— You're going to talk to me about this. Press here once to speak. Twice if you're in danger.

Miguel put the device in his coat pocket.

Augusto grabbed his wrist before he left.

— The second envelope. Where is it?

Miguel hesitated.

— With the person my mother trusted more than anyone else.

— Teresa?

He shook his head.

No. Not with me.

Augusto looked at the boy's soaked clothes.

- Where?

Miguel pulled the torn thread of the hood. Inside the seam, there was a small, thin plastic capsule, hidden as if it were just part of the fabric.

My mother said that if anyone found out about this envelope before the right time, they would all die.

Marta approached.

— Miguel, what's in it?

I don't know. She made me promise I would only open it when I found my grandfather.

The word came out more quietly.

Grandmother.

Augusto felt his chest tighten.

— You found it.

Miguel looked at him.

- I still don't know.

And he left with Helena and two bodyguards.

The technical passageway smelled of metal, dampness, and cleaning products. Miguel walked ahead, small and quick, with a flashlight in his hand. Helena followed behind, breathing heavily. Without her high heels and arrogant posture, she looked like just a frightened woman in an overly white lab coat.

"Your mother," she said, almost in a whisper, "was brave."

Miguel did not respond.

I looked after her one night.

He stopped.

That's a lie.

— That's true. She was in a room in the old wing. Tomás said she was unstable, dangerous. But she just kept repeating your name.

Miguel turned around.

— And you left it there.

Helena lowered her face.

- Yes.

The response was worse because he didn't try to defend himself.

They continued.