“How far?”
“Thirty-two weeks.”
He calculated.
Eight months.
The child had been conceived before she disappeared.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
Lucía laughed through tears.
“I tried.”
Alejandro stared.
“When?”
“The morning I found out.”
“I called you.”
“Your number was disconnected.”
“It wasn’t.”
“I emailed.”
“I wrote.”
“I went to your office.”
“Security wouldn’t let me upstairs.”
Alejandro turned toward Gabriel.
The manager looked sick.
Lucía continued.
“Then your attorney contacted me.”
“What attorney?”
“Ramón Salazar.”
Alejandro froze.
Ramón was not merely an attorney.
He was Alejandro’s uncle.
His late mother’s younger brother.
For twenty years, Ramón had been legal adviser to the Montero family.
He had attended Alejandro’s wedding.
He had toasted Lucía.
He had called her family.
“What did Ramón say?”
Lucía looked at Alejandro.
“He said you knew about the baby.”
“He said you believed it wasn’t yours.”
