A female lieutenant returns home to find her grandmother imprisoned: "She's back," she says as the true betrayal is revealed in the family mansion.

Chapter 4: The Secret Under the Hem

Her father’s office, a room that had always been a cozy clutter of architectural blueprints, ledgers, and material samples, was now suspiciously clean. Not a single speck of dust. All the heavy oak desk drawers were completely empty. The door to the wall safe was wide open, its interior stripped bare. The cherished family photos that used to sit proudly on his desk and hang on the walls were entirely gone, as if Arturo Robles had never had a family at all.

The only thing left on the massive executive desk was a brand-new manila folder, clipping together stacks of property transfer documents. Mariana quickly flipped through the pages; glaring back at her in bold ink was Patricia’s name, listed as the sole beneficiary on every single cover sheet.

Mariana immediately pulled her smartphone from her pocket. Without hesitation, she meticulously photographed every page, every signature, and every notary stamp. The timestamp on her screen read 2:17 PM. With a few swift taps, she attached all the images, sending one encrypted copy to her military unit's secure server and another directly to the email address of the family’s private law firm.

When she returned to the living room, Lupita was helping Consuelo take small sips of water. Seeing Mariana, Consuelo weakly raised a hand, grabbing the sleeve of Mariana's uniform and pulling gently. With bony, trembling fingers, she pointed down to the hem of the tattered, old cardigan she was wearing.

The seam on one side of the hem looked unusually bulky, the stitching rough and completed in a frantic, clumsy rush.

"In there…" Consuelo wheezed, her voice so weak only Mariana could hear. "The night before… before she locked me up…"

Understanding instantly, Mariana turned to the maid.

"Lupita, get me sewing scissors. Quickly. Tomás, close the living room doors and stand guard."

Patricia, who had just stepped into the room, saw her smug smile vanish. She watched their strange actions with growing anxiety.

Taking the scissors from Lupita, Mariana carefully snipped away the thick, rough threads on her grandmother’s hem.

A small, cold metal object fell through the broken threads, dropping with a clink into the palm of her hand.

A second key. Small, antique, and intricately carved.

Patricia jumped, stepping forward on reflex. She reached her hand out, her voice turning shrill and commanding.

"Give that to me! Right now!"

Mariana instantly closed her fist tightly, hiding the key. She looked straight into Patricia’s panicked eyes with absolute resolve.

"No."

Consuelo lifted her cloudy eyes toward the ceiling, her breath fragile.

"Your father’s bedroom… upstairs… behind the large bookshelf…"

And for the first time since Mariana had walked through the black-ribboned gates, Patricia’s flawless makeup seemed to crack. She turned completely pale, her lips trembling uncontrollably.