Her daughter.
Exactly as she looked the day she disappeared.
She forced herself to speak.
“Son… your tattoo… who is that girl?”
The man stiffened.
His smile faltered.
“Oh… just someone I once knew, señora.”
But Elena felt her soul tremble.
Before she could ask more, the men paid, rushed out, and climbed into the truck.
She ran after them, desperate, but only managed to catch the license plate before the vehicle disappeared into traffic.
That night, she didn’t sleep.
Why would a stranger carry her daughter’s face on his skin?
What did he know?
How had he seen Sofía?
A New Trail… And a Name
The next morning, Elena went straight to the Police Station.
At first, they shrugged it off—
“Tattoos can look similar, ma’am.”
“You’re grieving… maybe it’s coincidence.”
But she slammed her hand on the desk.
“I am her mother. I know my child’s face. THAT is Sofía.”
The officer wrote down the plate number.
Elena started asking around—market vendors, taxi drivers, pesero drivers.
Someone must have seen that truck before.
A week later, she got her first lead.
A pesero driver told her:
“I saw those same guys near TAPO bus station. They eat at a little fonda.”
Elena rushed there—
but she was too late.
The group had already left.
But the owner remembered one man:
Ricardo.
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