Chapter 2
Chapter 2: The Nursery of Secrets
Lucía carried the baby down a long, carpeted corridor until she reached the heavy mahogany door of the nursery. She pushed it open, and the room beyond was, at first glance, a masterpiece of interior design.
It was bathed in soft, natural light filtering through heavy cream-colored drapes. In the center stood a pristine white crib, surrounded by expensive, handcrafted wooden toys, imported plush animals, and a rocking chair upholstered in fine velvet. A magnificent quilt, embroidered with real gold thread, lay folded over the railing.
Yet, as Lucía stepped inside and laid the baby gently on the changing table, the illusion shattered.
The room was beautiful, but it was entirely devoid of love. It felt sterile, like a museum exhibit rather than a child's sanctuary. The toys were arranged with geometric precision, completely untouched. There was no scent of baby powder or warm milk—only the faint, chemical smell of expensive cleaning products. It seemed as though the nursery had been hastily thrown together to impress a visiting inspector, rather than to welcome a beloved child into a home.
"Let's get you comfortable, little one," Lucía whispered, offering the baby a warm, genuine smile as he blinked his dark eyes open.
She began to unbutton his small, designer onesie to change his diaper. The infant cooed, turning his head sharply to the side to look at a beam of sunlight dancing on the wall.
As his head turned, the soft hair behind his ear shifted.
And then, Lucía saw it.
It was tiny. It was crimson red.
It was shaped exactly like a star.
Right there, tucked discreetly behind his left ear.
The breath caught in Lucía’s throat, and her hands froze mid-air. A wave of icy terror washed over her body, locking her muscles in place. She stared at the mark, her vision blurring at the edges as her mind desperately tried to reject what her eyes were seeing.
"That mark..." she whispered into the empty room, her voice trembling violently.
The baby, completely oblivious to the earthquake currently shattering his nanny's reality, kicked his tiny legs happily and reached for Lucía's paralyzed hand.
Lucía knew that mark.
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She had only seen it once in her entire life, but it was a sight she would never, ever forget. It was an impossibility. It was a ghost.
Because the child who bore that exact mark was supposed to be dead.
