Emma and I continued to follow the trail, carefully. Code names, encrypted channels, secret meeting spots. The file the judge had handed us months ago was starting to make more sense—there were names hidden within, protected behind layers of lies.
One of those names belonged to someone we never expected: Carlos Rivas, a former forensic colleague. Santiago had trained him, trusted him, even defended him before the judge.
Emma scanned through one of the reports we pulled from the system. "Carlos authorized a toxicology report that was never completed… but he signed off on it as if it was."
"That's not a mistake," I said, low. "That's sabotage. From the inside."
We decided to confront him discreetly, without involving the judge. We arranged to meet him in an abandoned parking lot behind an old hospital—a place where the truth couldn't hide.
Carlos showed up late, looking nervous. "What are you two doing digging again? I thought the case was over."
Emma stepped forward. "We know you manipulated evidence, Carlos. We want to know why."
He laughed—dry and bitter. "Why? Because you two still believe justice is real. I did what I had to do to survive."
I clenched my fists. "Survive what?"
He lowered his voice. "There's more. You don't understand… There's a list. Everyone who knew too much—we were all marked. You, Emma, even the judge. Someone at the top is pulling the strings."
"Who?" I asked, a chill crawling up my spine.
Carlos hesitated. But before he could speak a name—a gunshot echoed through the air.
Blood poured from his side. He collapsed.
A black car sped off into the shadows.
Emma rushed to him, but it was too late. Carlos whispered one final word before dying:
"Ismael…"
It was the name of a retired prosecutor. Supposedly dead for over a year.
Back home, Amara noticed the tremble in my hands.
"I can't lose you," she said, tears in her eyes.
"I know," I answered. "But if I don't finish this… we're all already lost."