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“Because I loved Raul, and I believed he was a good man.” I stare deep into his eyes so that he can see I speak the truth. “I love you, Esteban. I love you more than I’ve ever loved anyone. There’s no point in denying that. But if what you say about Raul is true, then I can’t trust my own judgment anymore, and I’m terrified because I cannot live without you. I will not. And I know without a doubt that if being with you means to ruin my soul, I’d willingly damn myself to hell. That is how much I love you.”
Cupping my cheek, he brings my face close to his and drops his forehead to mine. “If you did that, I’d follow you there and burn for all eternity by your side. That is how much I love you.” He inhales deeply, as if he’s taking me in. “I want you to believe what I tell you. But I’m not going to ask you to blindly accept it, not when there might be any doubt left between us. So I’m going to show you.”
He stands and pulls me with him out of the bedroom and to the office. After unlocking the file cabinet that sits behind his desk, he opens one of the drawers and shuffles through several folders. When he comes to one in the very back, he takes it out, then with only slight hesitation, hands it to me. “This has it all. The report that shows I paid both the police and the DEA to keep it secret. It’s all there.”
I stare at the green folder with a tab that reads Martin Raulino. When I first met Esteban, he handed me a very similar file that contained in-depth information on my life, down to my blood type. That’s what I expect to find when I lay it on his desk and open it. Only, to my dismay, it has so much more than that.
Yes, there is a lot about Raul’s history, including a false background created by the DEA. But there are also transcripts of conversations between Esteban and the police chief and voicemails from Raul to Nancy. Printouts of e-mails sent between all parties with detailed accounts of the events that surrounded the deaths of his family members, which show that Esteban paid to have the case closed. Then more messages between him and several agents of the DEA, including the chief.
Toward the end, there’s a set of photographs. I don’t make it past the first, which shows the vehicle in which Esteban’s family died.
I slap the folder shut, leaving my palm flat on it. There’s no need to look further. Everything I’ve seen confirms his story. Raul did work for Serrano. He used Nancy. He killed Esteban’s sisters and aunt.
“I have done many bad things, Aurora,” he says, sliding the file from under my hand and putting it back where he took it from. “I have killed people. But I have never done so without reason. When I killed Raulino, I wasn’t taking the life of your fiancé. I was ending the life of the man who murdered my family.”
“You did what you had to,” I whisper. It’s impossible to describe my emotions, they’re so turbulent. But I cannot deny the facts. And those facts give Esteban every right to have wanted revenge.
Raul was a monster.
“I’m so tired.” I sigh.
“Me too.” He extends his hand to me. “Come.”
I stare at it for a moment before I slip mine into it and allow him to guide me to the living room. He sits on the long leather sofa, and I lie beside him, resting my head on his lap. Then, with his warm palm on my arm, I shut my eyes and fall into my first dreamless sleep in years.
