Catalina didn’t move.

The fire crackled weakly in front of her, casting shadows that seemed to have a life of their own on the damp walls of the cave. But that sound… that crackling… wasn’t coming from the fire.

It was coming from behind.

From the depths.

From where the light no longer reached.

He felt his heart pound in his chest. It wasn’t fear of rats. He was getting used to that by now. It was something else… something older, deeper.

More humane.

She gripped the knife with her right hand and, with her left, protected her belly.

“Who’s there?” he whispered.

Silence.

Only the echo of his own voice bouncing off the walls.

Catalina swallowed. She forced herself to turn slowly. She took the makeshift torch and raised it, pointing it toward the dark gallery.

And then he saw it.

A silhouette.

Quiet.

A few meters away.

It wasn’t a rat.

It was too big.

“Don’t shout,” said a hoarse, worn-out voice. “They’ll smell you.”

Catalina felt her legs give way.

—Who… who are you?

The figure took a step towards the light.

He was a man.

Or what was left of him.

Thin, with a long beard, his clothes in tatters, his skin tanned like old leather. His eyes… his eyes weren’t those of someone lost. They were those of someone who had seen too much.

“I should ask you the same thing,” he replied. “Nobody comes up here… unless they want to make it disappear.”

Catalina did not lower the knife.

“My mother-in-law left me,” she said, her voice firm, though inside it was breaking. “She thought I would die here.”

The man let out a dry laugh.

—Then you’re not the first.

Those words chilled her blood.

—What… what do you mean?

The man moved a little closer, close enough for the light to reveal scars on his arms.

“This place isn’t just a cave,” he said. “It’s where they come to bury secrets.”

Catalina clutched the notebook to her chest.

“I found this,” he murmured. “A record… names… lands… deaths…”

The man stared at her.

And for the first time, something changed in his expression.

—Did you open it?

-Yeah.

Silence.

Heavy.

“Then you’re already dead,” he said, without emotion.

Catalina felt a chill run through her entire body.

-Why do you say that?

The man sat down slowly near the fire, as if weariness had inhabited him for years.

“Because that notebook…” he said, “…is the reason why I’m still here.”

Catalina didn’t understand.

-Who are you?

The man looked up.

—I was a surveyor’s assistant —he replied—. Many years ago. A man who used to come up here with his papers… his measurements… his doubts.

Catalina felt like she couldn’t breathe.

—Don Prospero?

The man nodded slowly.

—That’s the one.

The fire crackled louder, as if it could hear too.

“He started noticing things,” the man continued. “Land that changed hands right after someone died. Forged signatures. Altered measurements. Always the same buyer.”

Catalina closed her eyes for a second.

-Beloved…

The man interrupted her.

—Don’t say his name out loud up here.

Catalina looked at him, confused.

-Because?

The man pointed into the darkness.

—Because they are never alone.

A heavy silence fell between them.

The rats were moving again.

“What happened to Don Prospero?” Catalina asked in a low voice.

The man took a while to respond.

—He discovered too much.

Catalina felt her heart sink.

—Was he killed?

The man slowly shook his head.

-Worse.

Catalina frowned.

“They brought him here,” he said. “Just like you.”

The world seemed to stop.

-Here…?

“Yes.” The man looked at the ground. “They thought no one would look for him. That the mountain would take care of the rest.”

Catalina felt her hands tremble.

-And you?

The man smiled without joy.

—I came with him.

Silence returned.

Heavier than before.

—And the notebook?

“We hid it,” he replied. “Before they found us.”

Catalina felt a blow to her chest.

—So… they know it exists?

The man looked her straight in the eyes.

—They know something has disappeared. And they know that whoever has it… can destroy them.

Catalina looked down at her belly.

Her son moved gently.

As if I understood.

“I can’t stay here,” she said. “I can’t let this stay buried.”

The man watched her in silence.

“So what do you plan to do?” she asked. “Go down alone? Confront them?”

Catalina took a deep breath.

For the first time since it all began… something inside her changed.

It wasn’t just fear anymore.

It was rage.

“No,” he said. “But I’m not going to die here either.”

The man studied her for a few seconds.

Then, slowly, he nodded.

“Then you need to get out alive,” she said. “And that… isn’t easy.”

Catalina knew it.

But he also knew something else.

If she remained silent…
everything would stay the same.

More deaths.
More stolen land.
More silenced women.

And his son…

He would grow up in the same world that killed his father.

No.

That wasn’t going to happen.

“Help me,” she said firmly.

The man hesitated.

—If I go out with you… they’ll kill me too.

Catalina looked directly at him.

—If you don’t go out… you’re already dead.

The silence that followed was long.

Heavy.

TRUE.

The man closed his eyes.

And for the first time in years…

He seemed to remember who he was.

“There is a path,” he finally said. “Not the one you came up. An older one. An exit from the mine… that leads to the other side of the hill.”

Catalina felt a spark of hope.

—Can we get there?

The man looked at her.

—With your condition… it will be difficult.

Catalina clutched the notebook.

—It was more difficult to get here.

The man couldn’t help but smile, barely.

“Then rest,” he said. “Tomorrow, before dawn… we’re leaving.”

That night, Catalina slept.

For the first time… not because of tiredness.

But because it had a purpose.

But what I didn’t know…

What neither of them knew…

It was down below, in the village…

Doña Socorro had not forgotten.

And when Rosendo knocked on her door again, as night fell…

She didn’t hesitate to say:

—She’s not dead.

Rosendo frowned.

—How do you know?

Doña Socorro looked towards the hill.

—Because that girl… asks too many questions.

Rosendo clenched his jaw.

—Then we’ll go look for her.

And this time…

They would leave nothing to chance.

At dawn, Catalina took her satchel, the notebook wrapped in her shawl… and took the first step towards the exit.

Without knowing…

That the truth she held in her hands could save her…

Or condemn her.

Forever.

Sometimes, those who try to bury you… don’t realize they are forcing you to rise stronger.

But now you tell me…
👉 If you were in Catalina’s place, would you risk your life to uncover the truth… or would you choose to survive in silence?