Ernesto stared at the photograph until the faces blurred together.

Valeria.

Iván.

Rogelio.

Three people standing outside a private clinic as calmly as if they had just finished lunch.

Rogelio Cárdenas had been beside Ernesto for twenty-eight years.

He had helped him transform a one-room carpentry workshop into Salgado Furniture. He had held Ernesto’s infant daughter before she died. He had carried Ernesto’s mother’s coffin. He had once slept on the factory floor for three nights during a workers’ strike because he refused to abandon his friend.

Ernesto had trusted him with every account, contract, and financial secret he possessed.

Now Rogelio was helping murder him.

“When was this taken?” Ernesto asked.

Julián Barragán pulled a chair closer to the hospital bed.

“Four days ago.”

“Why were they at that clinic?”

“It belongs to Dr. Horacio Mendoza.”

The name sounded familiar.

Ernesto searched his memory until a cold realization struck him.

“Valeria’s cardiologist.”

“The same physician who changed your medication six months ago,” Julián said. “The same physician who told the hospital that your heart failure was irreversible.”

Mateo stood near the door, his face tense.

“Could the doctor be involved too?”

Julián did not answer immediately.

“That is what we need to prove.”

Ernesto looked toward the heart monitor.

Only hours earlier, its every beep had sounded like a countdown toward death.

Now it sounded different.

Like a clock measuring how much time remained before his enemies realized he was no longer helpless.

“Has Valeria discovered that the accounts are frozen?”

“Not yet,” Julián replied. “The bank restrictions will appear as a routine security review until tomorrow morning.”

“And Rogelio?”

“He still believes he controls the company’s finances.”

Ernesto closed his eyes.

“Then let him believe it.”

Julián studied him carefully.

“What are you planning?”

“I want to hear them confess.”

Mateo stepped forward.

“Mr. Ernesto, you are still critically ill.”

“That is exactly why they will speak freely.”

Ernesto lifted his gaze.

“They already believe I am dead. My heart simply has not stopped yet.”

That afternoon, Valeria returned carrying a bouquet of white lilies.

She entered the room with swollen eyes and a trembling mouth, performing grief for the nurse walking beside her.

“My poor husband,” she whispered. “I haven’t slept at all.”

The nurse gave her a sympathetic look before leaving.

The moment the door closed, Valeria dropped the flowers onto a chair.

“You look worse.”

Ernesto allowed his head to fall weakly against the pillow.

Hidden beneath the blanket, his phone was recording again.

Valeria checked the hallway.

Then she sent a message.

Ten minutes later, Rogelio entered.

He wore the dark suit Ernesto had bought him for the company’s thirtieth anniversary.

For a moment, Ernesto saw the old friend he remembered.

Then Rogelio looked at Valeria and kissed her cheek.

The illusion disappeared.

“Can he hear us?” Rogelio asked.

“Probably,” Valeria replied. “But he can’t do anything.”

Rogelio approached the bed.

He stared down at Ernesto without sadness.

“You should have retired years ago.”

Ernesto forced himself not to react.

Rogelio continued.

“You always acted as though the company belonged only to you. I handled the debts, bribed the inspectors, negotiated with suppliers, and protected you from every problem.”

Valeria folded her arms.

“And what did Ernesto give you?”

“A salary.”

Bitterness hardened Rogelio’s face.

“After twenty-eight years, he still called me an employee.”

Valeria smiled.

“Soon you will own thirty percent.”

“Forty.”

Her smile vanished.

“That wasn’t the agreement.”

Rogelio turned toward her.

“The agreement changed when your lover began stealing from the purchasing department.”

Iván.

Ernesto felt his pulse quicken.

Valeria lowered her voice.

“Do not mention that here.”

“Why? Ernesto already knows Iván is sleeping with you.”

“But he does not know Iván diverted twelve million pesos through false suppliers.”

Ernesto’s fingers tightened beneath the blanket.

Twelve million.

The factory had nearly failed to pay its workers three months earlier. Rogelio had blamed rising material costs.

It had all been theft.

Rogelio leaned closer to Valeria.

“You promised me the financial records would disappear after his death.”

“They will.”

“And the new will?”

Valeria glanced at Ernesto.

“The document is ready. Dr. Mendoza will certify that Ernesto signed it while mentally competent.”

Rogelio laughed quietly.

“He cannot even hold a glass.”

“He does not need to. Mendoza already copied his signature.”

Ernesto felt sick.

Julián’s new will was protected.

But the false document revealed something more dangerous.

They were not merely waiting for him to die.

They intended to rewrite his final wishes before it happened.

“What about Alicia?” Rogelio asked.

Valeria’s expression darkened.

“She is still asking questions.”

Alicia.

Ernesto’s older sister.

The woman Valeria had convinced him to remove from his life.

“What did she find?” Valeria asked.

“She contacted the hospital twice. She says Ernesto called her last month and sounded afraid.”

“He never called her.”

“He did.”

Valeria looked sharply toward the bed.

Ernesto remembered.

One night, after fainting in the bathroom, he had called Alicia but ended the conversation before admitting what was wrong.

Rogelio continued.

“She also requested copies of the company’s financial reports.”

Valeria’s voice became cold.

“Then deal with her.”

“How?”

“The same way we dealt with Ernesto.”

For the first time, Rogelio looked disturbed.

“That was not part of the plan.”

“It is now.”

Ernesto’s rage became so intense that the monitor began beeping faster.

Valeria rushed toward the bed.

“His heart rate is rising.”

Rogelio backed away.

“Call the nurse.”

“No.”

Valeria reached into her handbag and removed a small bottle.

Ernesto recognized it.

The capsules she had given him every night.

She poured two tablets into her palm.

“He only needs another dose.”

Rogelio grabbed her wrist.

“Are you insane? The hospital will detect it.”

“Dr. Mendoza controls the blood tests.”

“What if someone else orders another analysis?”

Valeria pulled free.

“No one will.”

She opened the water bottle beside the bed and dropped the capsules inside.

The powder dissolved instantly.

Then footsteps sounded outside.

Valeria quickly placed the bottle on the bedside table.

Mateo entered carrying fresh linens.

He saw the bottle.

Then he looked at Ernesto.

A silent understanding passed between them.

Valeria smiled.

“Could you help my husband drink some water? He is too weak to hold it himself.”

Mateo’s face remained calm.

“Of course.”

He approached the bed and reached for the bottle.

Before touching it, he deliberately knocked the tray onto the floor.

The bottle fell with it, spilling water across the tiles.

Valeria’s expression twisted.

“You idiot!”

“I’m sorry,” Mateo said, kneeling. “I’ll replace it.”

Rogelio stared at him suspiciously.

“Have we met before?”

Mateo lowered his head.

“No, sir.”

But Rogelio continued watching him.

A few seconds later, Valeria and Rogelio left the room.

The instant the door closed, Mateo locked it.

“They were going to poison you again.”

“I know.”

Mateo removed the phone from beneath the blanket.

The recording had captured everything.

“We have enough for the police now.”

Ernesto shook his head.

“Not yet.”

Mateo stared at him.

“They threatened your sister.”

“Alicia is already in danger. If they are arrested now, we may never find out who else is involved.”

Julián entered through the adjoining consultation room.

He had been listening from behind the wall.

“There is someone else,” he said.

He placed a company document on the bed.

It contained a series of payments authorized by Rogelio.

The money had been transferred to Mendoza’s clinic, Iván’s shell companies, and one final account.

An account belonging to an employee inside San Rafael Hospital.

Ernesto read the name twice.

Then he looked toward the door.

Mateo followed his gaze.

“What is it?”

Ernesto handed him the document.

The final recipient was Dr. Lucía Navarro.

The cardiologist who had given him five days to live.

At that exact moment, Dr. Navarro appeared in the doorway.

She was holding a syringe.

Her eyes moved from Ernesto to the financial document in Mateo’s hand.

Then she quietly locked the door behind her.

“You were never supposed to see that,” she said.