I could already hear footsteps coming up the stairs. It was Lucía. “Sofía, are you upstairs?” Her voice sounded a little surprised. “Yes, I’m in the bathroom,” I replied quickly, going into the bathroom down the hall. I closed the door and flushed. The sound of the water calmed my racing heart. I looked at myself in the mirror. I was pale. I took a deep breath and splashed cold water on my face, trying to calm myself. Then I opened the door. Lucía was standing in the doorway of the master bedroom, looking worried.
When she saw me, she seemed relieved. “Oh, you were here. Sorry, we got back early. Hugo wasn’t feeling well. I don’t think he slept well last night. He has a slight fever. The teacher told me to take him home to rest.” Hugo, sick, seriously ill—my heart sank. It must have been from the scare last night. “No, he’s just a little lethargic. I told him to go to bed.” Lucía glanced worriedly toward the children’s room and then back at me. “Are you alright? You look unwell.”
It’s nothing. Is it jet lag? I forced a smile and went downstairs. “Do you need help?” “No. I’ll get you some water.” Lucía also came downstairs and went to the kitchen. I followed her, but my eyes inevitably drifted to the closed office door. It was locked, but I didn’t know if she’d notice I hadn’t locked it. Lucía got the water, seemingly without noticing anything unusual, but the flash drive in my pocket was like a red-hot coal.
I had the evidence, but what now? Telling Lucía—would she believe me? How would she react? Fear? Denial? Or would she accuse me of violating her privacy? Calling the police. In a foreign country, me, a foreigner, with illegally obtained evidence, reporting an executive of a local company, and on top of that, the matter involved my best friend’s family. Calling the police would mean the immediate destruction of that family. Lucía and the children would be left homeless.
Consulting a lawyer—I wasn’t familiar with Spanish law. Sending the evidence anonymously to the authorities. Lucía and the children would be implicated anyway, and the process would be uncontrollable. A thousand thoughts raced through my mind. Sofía, Lucía’s voice, brought me back to reality. She was looking at me, a glass of water in her hand, worried. “Are you really okay? Are you uncomfortable, or is something wrong?” In her eyes, there was genuine concern, but also a cautious curiosity.
Suddenly I realized my strange behavior might have aroused her suspicions. It wasn’t like I was just thinking I was leaving tomorrow and feeling sad. I made up an excuse and went to hug her. Her body tensed for a moment, but then she relaxed and patted me on the back. “Silly girl, you can come back whenever you want, or whenever I can. I’ll come see you with the kids.” Her voice sounded a little broken. “Whenever you can.” When would that be?
In that gilded cage. Would I ever have that chance? I let go of Lucía and looked her in the eyes. Whatever happens, remember that I’ll always be your friend, your biggest supporter. If you need help, tell me anytime, for anything. She was taken aback for a moment. Her eyes reddened. Then she nodded firmly and forced a smile. I know. And so do you. Take good care of yourself. Don’t work so much and find someone who loves you. She avoided the deeper meaning of my words.
Or perhaps she didn’t dare to think about it. In the afternoon, Hugo slept a little and seemed to improve. Lucía busied herself with the housework. Ugh, nervous, I stayed in my room replaying the images from the pen drive, thinking about the next step. Telling Lucía directly was too risky. Her current mental state probably wouldn’t allow it. She might even react irrationally out of fear and the instinct to protect her family. I had to find a safer, more professional way, one that would protect Lucía and the children as much as possible.
I thought of someone, Carlos, my company’s legal advisor. Although he wasn’t an expert in international law, he had many contacts, some in the field of international commercial investigations, and he was trustworthy. I could consult him without revealing identities or locations, to see how to proceed in a case like this and how to protect the family members who knew nothing. But calling from here was risky. With his need for control, Marcos might have tapped the phones. I needed a secure means of communication.
That night, Marcos returned very late, smelling of alcohol. He looked worse than in the morning, as if things hadn’t gone well for him. He asked briefly how Hugo was and locked himself in the office, frowning. I heard him lock the door. A short while later, the echo of his restrained but furious voice reached me from inside, talking on the phone. Although I couldn’t understand what he was saying, his tone was very aggressive. Lucía was in the kitchen preparing some dinner, moving silently so as not to disturb him.
That night, no one slept. Lying in bed, I clutched the flash drive in my pocket. It contained either the key for Lucía to escape her gilded cage or the bomb that would destroy her life and her children’s. I had to be extremely careful. The next morning, using the excuse of buying souvenirs and taking care of some travel arrangements, I said I needed to go downtown alone. Lucía wanted to come with me, but Marcos, who had stayed home that morning canceling some plans, was there.
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