Chapter 4 - The Restoration|
As soon as Bia left for school, Ricardo called Marcus, an old friend from his days working IT in the financial sector. Marcus ran a boutique cybersecurity firm downtown and owed Ricardo more than a few favors.
By noon, Marcus was sitting at Ricardo’s kitchen table, his fingers flying across the keyboard of a heavily modified laptop.
“This encryption is military-grade, Rick,” Marcus muttered, chewing on a matchstick. “Whoever nested this file inside your cloud archive didn't just stumble in. They had your exact server configuration.”
“Can you crack it?” Ricardo asked, pacing the kitchen floor.
“I don’t need to crack it. I just need to bypass the security wrapper. Give me three more minutes.”
The room was agonizingly silent except for the frantic clicking of the mechanical keyboard. Ricardo poured his fourth cup of black coffee, his mind racing back to Lucas’s slip-up that morning. Lucas knew about the phone. Lucas wanted Bia out of this apartment. The timing was entirely too perfect.
“Got it,” Marcus said, hitting the enter key with a triumphant smack. “The file is unlocked. You want to listen to it now?”
“Play it,” Ricardo said, stepping closer to the speakers.
A heavy burst of static hissed from the laptop, followed by the rhythmic, terrifying beep of a hospital heart monitor.
Then, Camila’s voice. Weak. Breathless. Terrified.
“Bia... if you ever find this... I love you. You need to know... the IV line. They changed the bag. It wasn't my regular nurse. It was him.”
Ricardo gripped the edge of the kitchen table so hard his knuckles turned white.
Camila’s voice coughed violently before continuing in a frantic whisper.
“Lucas was in the room. He handed the nurse the new bag. My chest is burning, Rick. If I don't wake up tomorrow, it wasn't the cancer. Please, protect my baby. Don't let him—”
The audio abruptly cut out, replaced by a dial tone.
Marcus slowly took the matchstick out of his mouth and stared at Ricardo.
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“Rick... did I just listen to a murder confession?”
“No,” Ricardo whispered, his blood turning to ice. “You just listened to the motive.”
