All rights reserved.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and events are either products of the author's imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to reality is purely coincidental.
© 2025 Vanessa Aleey
This book was translated from Spanish to English, as I am a Spanish-speaking writer. Throughout the book, I will be leaving clues, so stay alert.
SYNOPSIS
In Mexico City, the bodies of two women who had disappeared approximately three months earlier were found. When the bodies were discovered, multiple signs of violence were identified, and police investigations continue to determine whether there was sexual assault.
Authorities have found similarities in both cases, as family members and friends of the victims claim that a young man had been harassing them. However, the criminal's face remains a mystery due to the lack of clues regarding his appearance. The police have reported that a composite sketch of the alleged aggressor will soon be released.
—Put your cell phones away, students. They are not allowed in my class.—My teacher's voice interrupted my thoughts. I quickly put my phone away and looked up to give her a smile, as I knew that warning was an indirect comment aimed at me.
—You should stop watching the news—my best friend whispered. Her tone was almost a murmur, but I still heard her. I looked at her with a dull expression.—Everyone understands that you're going through a difficult time.
Even my teacher, who is usually very strict, asks me from time to time how I'm doing. Two days ago, my sister was found dead in a forest. According to the police, she had been buried, but due to the rain, her body was exposed.
I was in middle school when I found out. The principal called me into his office so I could take the phone and speak with my parents.
The swelling in my eyes still hasn't gone down. I look pale almost all day, as I have refused to eat. My parents are worried about me, but sometimes it seems like they forget me, because they lost a daughter… but I lost my older sister. We are all living our grief in our own way, but I still can't find a reason for her death.
Why…?
She had a bright future. She dreamed of becoming an international model and was achieving her goal, participating in fashion shows. She was only 18 years old.
I couldn't help her. I did nothing to find her.
But I will make sure that the one responsible rots in hell for what he did to my sister.
—I'm going to the amusement park with my boyfriend.
—Cover for me, sis, and I'll pay you tomorrow.—She told me that night she disappeared.—You know very well that if I say I'm going out with him, they won't let me.
—There must be a reason— I replied, not fully convinced that it was okay for her to go alone with that guy. She had told me they had been seeing each other for two weeks.—I have a bad feeling about him.
—You sound just like mom now—she laughed, brushing it off.—I promise everything will be fine.
Nothing was fine.
Hours passed and she didn't show up anywhere. Our parents noticed her absence and began asking me about her. Even though I promised not to betray her, I ended up doing so out of concern, since it had been more than two hours without her sending me any messages.
When we went to the police, they didn't take us seriously at first. Just as we were filing the report, I received a message from her saying she was fine, that she had gotten distracted at the park and forgot to write to us.
But those last messages didn't sound like her.
It was her way of speaking, yes, but deep down I felt that it wasn't her who had written them. I mentioned it to the police, but they insisted that we wait one day. If she didn't return home, then they would accept the report and activate the Amber Alert nationwide.
For me, it was too late when they started looking for her.
I felt like something valuable had been taken from me.
Her empty room. Her absent laughter. Her place at the table during meals. There was no longer anyone to fight with over sitting in the passenger seat next to dad.
Everything disappeared the day she left.
But I saw his face.
I hid behind my bedroom window and watched him pick her up in his car. He didn't notice me.
I thought about telling the police, but all they did was offer their condolences.
My parents knew as well, but they were convinced that nothing would change. Still, my father hired a private investigator, who would meet with me at home to talk about what I knew.
The teacher continued speaking, but then she stopped, confused.
—Miranda, are you okay? Do you need to step out for a moment?—she asked me, but I didn't know how to respond. I was lost in my thoughts.—If you want, you can go clean up your tears.
Tears?
I brought my hands to my cheeks and felt the moisture of the drops sliding down them. I quickly stood up from my seat and left the classroom. My friend tried to follow me, but let go when she noticed that I wanted to be alone.
I walked toward the bathroom on the same floor. Luckily, no one was there. I went to the sink, turned on the faucet, and began washing my face. When I looked up, I saw my reflection in the mirror, sighed, and took some paper to dry myself.
I took out my phone and dialed my mother's number. The call went to voicemail, so I sighed and tried again.
—Hello? What happened, honey?—Her voice sounded amid murmurs and background noise.
—Could you come get me?—I asked in a trembling voice.
—I'm at work, but I'll try to go get you during my break—she replied with understanding. She knew that returning to school after all this was too difficult for me, especially when my sister's death had become news throughout the entire state.
—Okay, I'll wait for you.—I hung up and put my phone back into the pocket of my vest.
—So, will it take a while?—A male voice made me shudder. I immediately turned around and took a few steps back, frightened when I recognized the fake smile on his face. It was the same smile that had dragged my sister to her death.—Why are you looking at me like that?
Why is he here?
—Why did you kill my sister?—I asked angrily, clenching my fists. His response was a mocking laugh.
—I still remember her last words—he said, leaning against the wall, right next to the door.—"I should have listened to my sister when she told me you were a bad person."
Sister…
—I must admit it hurt that you never liked me, but I thought everything would turn out fine. Unfortunately, your sister ruined everything.
—How can you blame her?—I snapped furiously. My eyes kept searching for an opportunity to run toward the door.
—I only wanted to help her. I did everything for her, I even killed… but it was never enough for her.
Did he kill more people?
—Help her? You killed her, you damn idiot! Is that helping?
—I wasn't going to let her leave me, not after everything I did for her.—He took a step toward me.
Quickly, I pulled the pepper spray from my pocket and sprayed it into his eyes.
He growled in pain, and I ran toward the door, but in a second he grabbed me from behind, covering my mouth with his hand.
I tried to break free, but he wrapped his arm around my neck.
I was losing strength with every second.
I couldn't scream.
My eyes were slowly closing.
The last thing I saw was his silhouette standing in front of me, covering my eyes with his hand.
Help me.
I don't want to die.
Why did this happen to us, little sister?
AUTHOR VANESSA ALEEY