03
CHAPTER 3
FIRST PIECE FOUND
ARI
Sometimes I question whether it truly happened or if it was just another dream, like the ones I'm used to.
As if my mind were working against me, confusing everything. But this time was different. It wasn't about forcing myself to wake up or pinching myself to check if I was really awake.
This was real.
In a matter of seconds, my life flashed before my eyes, and yet now I'm sitting in my parents' living room, not uttering a single word.
I listen to Jeff's explanation while I feel their eyes on me, as if they were trying to decipher what I'm thinking.
I don't know what to say. My gaze is fixed on the floor. I feel a knot in my stomach, holding back the urge to throw up. I'm still scared.
Suddenly, I feel my father's hand on my back. He gives me a few gentle pats. I stand up and cover my face with my hands.
"We should take her to a doctor, she's far too pale," my father says, addressing my mother, who is talking to Jeff.
I'm doing my best to pretend that I'm fine.
"She'll be okay soon. It was just the scare. Besides, the police are about to arrive, and she needs to be present," my mother replies.
I keep my eyes closed, my arms crossed.
"Did you hear me, Ari?"
"Yes," I answer flatly. What does it matter?
It's not the first time I've felt like this. I'm sure she thinks it's my fault, just like last time.
It has nothing to do with that period, but even so, back then I received help from other people… though I wish it had been from her. Maybe I expected too much.
But I don't blame her. I also believed it was my fault.
"Can I go to my room?" I ask without looking at her, though I'm clearly waiting for her permission.
"Yes, I'll call you when Officer García arrives," she answers.
I freeze.
Officer García?
The one who handled Liam's case.
Did she call him specifically?
Does she really think Liam is involved?
I feel my breathing quicken. My chest rises and falls before I gather the courage to speak.
"Why did you call him?" I ask, noticing Jeff's surprised expression.
He doesn't understand what I'm talking about or why my reaction is so intense.
"He doesn't need to come," I add.
"Yes, he does. This is about your safety," my mother replies, brushing off my words.
I clench my fists, holding back my anger. If I keep pushing, Jeff will start asking questions, and I don't know if I can handle his reproach for hiding the truth from him.
"The person who attacked us is completely different," I try to make her understand that Liam has nothing to do with this.
"Defending that boy again… You haven't known anything about him in a long time. He could still be bothering you. After all, maybe he's resentful," my mother says.
Jeff looks at me, confused.
I sigh.
My mother never approved of Liam. From the beginning, she wanted to keep him away from me, and now she's taking advantage of the opportunity to do it again.
"What is she talking about, Ari?" Jeff asks, watching me closely. I take a step back, unable to answer.
"Doesn't he know?" my mother intervenes. "Her ex-boyfriend. I always told her she shouldn't date him because he never gave me a good feeling… and I turned out to be right."
"Never gave you a good feeling? Seriously?" I reply, frustrated. "You never cared about what was happening. Deep down, you were glad it didn't work out because you criticized him constantly for not having the same financial stability we do."
My father stands up and places himself beside me. He grips my shoulders firmly and pulls me away from my mother, preventing the argument from escalating.
"You shouldn't speak to your mother like that. Calm down, you're too upset," he whispers, trying to soothe me.
Jeff slowly approaches me.
"Are you talking about Dylan?" Jeff asks.
I shake my head quickly.
"Dylan? Not at all! He's a great guy, unlike that idiot Liam," my mother replies.
I clench my fists, ready to step toward her, but my father's grip stops me.
"Daughter, please, we have guests," my father says, trying to calm me down.
I look straight at my mother. Her expression is serious. Mine, on the other hand, is glassy-eyed, though I'm not crying.
"Why are you trying to blame him? It's been almost two years since that happened. It happened when I was sixteen! I'm about to turn eighteen, and now you come out with 'maybe it was him,' out of resentment? He wished me a happy birthday at school, he even tried to avoid me so he wouldn't make me uncomfortable, but you keep insisting he's the same person he was two years ago."
"Do you think he changed by magic? Do you think I'm exaggerating? Let's tell Jeff, your best friend, the one you tell everything to… except this. Let's see if he thinks the same as you," my mother replies coldly. Every time we fought, we became strangers to each other, only to hurt one another more.
"What happened? I remember you never wanted to tell me why you broke up. It seemed to bother you, but I didn't want to ask because you were very sad back then," Jeff says, looking at me in confusion.
"It's not the moment. Not now," I reply.
I see the surprise on his face. He knew that if I refused to tell him something, it was because it was truly serious.
"You should, sweetheart, because you could be in danger with that boy around," my mother says, pretending to sound gentle, though her annoyance is clear.
"That's not for you to decide," I snap. "Because it happened to me, not to you. So keep your comments and baseless accusations to yourself."
My father loosens his grip when he hears me. My mother is about to reply, but I interrupt her before she can continue.
"Don't call me 'daughter' only when it suits you. You should say it when you actually mean it, but I guess that's too much to ask."
Without looking back, I go up the stairs to my room, leaving everyone behind.
When I close the door, a deep exhaustion hits me. My thoughts replay over and over: the boy who chased us, the fear that he might catch us… My heart is still pounding.
I hurriedly kick off my shoes and lie down on the bed.
"Ari, can I come in?" Jeff's voice interrupts my thoughts.
I sit up on the bed and nod.
"I've always wondered what happened to you and why it seemed to hurt you so much," he says as he enters my room.
I knew he was talking about Liam. I pat the mattress beside me so he can sit. He comes closer, and I try to find the right words.
"Before I tell you this, I want you to know it wasn't because I didn't trust you. I just didn't want to be judged. I already had enough people doing that… I couldn't stand the idea of disappointing you too."
"Ari, we all make mistakes," he says, trying to comfort me.
I shake my head.
"I know I made a mistake, but I didn't want to make one with him. I really didn't want it to end," I reply, looking at him.
Something in my gaze makes his expression change. He seems unable to believe what he's seeing.
"Ari… you're crying," he whispers, surprised.
I bring my hand to my cheek.
I feel the tear sliding down my face and open my eyes in shock.
After all this time without being able to cry, reason was no longer enough.
I break down.
My body can't take it anymore.
"Did he really do something that bad?" Jeff asks cautiously.
"Despite everything, after that… I still loved him," I admit.
"Tell me, it couldn't have been that bad… right?" he says, unable to imagine Liam as someone terrible.
I take a deep breath before saying it.
"Jeff… he… he hit me. Not always, but later things happened that I didn't even understand myself."
My best friend's expression freezes.
Suddenly, he jumps up from the bed. His face is red with rage.
"Are you telling me that all this time you lied to me? How the hell did you hide something like that from me?"
"How do you think I felt? I couldn't leave him, no matter how hard I tried. But what scared me the most was not having the courage to walk away. Because, despite everything, I still loved him."
"With help! You just had to come to me or the girls! You have feelings, damn it! Stop pretending to be cold!"
I stay silent.
I knew I had acted wrong, but with my psychologist's help, I had learned from my mistakes.
"They didn't do anything to him? He's walking around school freely after what he did to you," Jeff says, as if it were absurd that he hadn't been arrested. But we were both still minors, so the restraining order was the only thing the police managed to get. "Maybe your mother is right, it wouldn't be strange if it were him."
"It's not him! This time it's not his fault!" I reply quickly, in a tone I'm not used to using with Jeff.
I never got angry with him, but he could tell how much it bothered me that they kept pointing at Liam.
"Why do you keep defending him? Actually, now that I think about it, you shouldn't even be talking to him," he says, criticizing the fact that I didn't completely cut him off.
I kept running into him without avoiding him, but Jeff didn't see the problem because he didn't know what had happened between us.
In reality, no one knew the real problem.
I don't know if I was in love enough to endure it, but in the end, everything ended because of that.
"Because it's also not right to blame an innocent person. He doesn't even come near me anymore. He's not sixteen anymore, and neither am I. Stop treating me like an idiot," I reply. He shakes his head, as if he doesn't believe me.
"I can't believe you're acting like this," Jeff says. "But listen carefully, tomorrow I expect you not to interfere in the conversation I'm going to have with Liam."
"To tell him what? 'Hey, were you the one who attacked us?' What? Do you think he's going to confess? Leave the job to the police and don't get involved with him."
"Oh, now you trust the police so much! Because you don't want me bothering your idiot ex-boyfriend, and I hope this attitude isn't because you still feel something for him. Because the next time he talks to you, that guy is going to end up beaten. I don't give a damn. If he dared to lay a hand on a woman who's important to me, I have every right to go and break his face. If he thinks he's such a man, let him come and raise his hand against me."
"It was two years ago, Jeff!"
"Exactly! It was two damn years ago! And no, I didn't help you at all. If I had protected you, he never would've hit you."
I stand up when I hear his voice break. He wants to cry, and I caused it. I try to approach him slowly, maybe hug him, but he pulls away quickly.
"Was it too much to ask? Why do you have to be so selfish? I know you went through hell. But aren't we supposed to take care of each other? Aren't I a good friend?"
"You know very well it's not that. I didn't even understand myself, let alone know what decision to make."
"If it was too much for you, we could've endured it together," he says. I look at him with tear-filled eyes and rest my head against his chest.
"I'm so sorry, Ari."
"I'm sorry for not listening to you. I'm sorry for being so selfish. But please, don't regret the past. You're with me right now, and you're all I need at this moment."
I feel his hands at my waist, pulling me closer, and then his arms wrap around me in a hug so tight it takes my breath away.
I probably stained his clothes with my tears and smeared mascara.
"Ari." A different voice interrupts us. There's a knock on my bedroom door, and we separate immediately. I see the police uniform, then his face.
"Nice to meet you, I'm Officer García."
"Nice to meet you, I'm Ari's best friend, my name is Jeff," he says, shaking the officer's hand with a polite smile. His eyes are still red from crying with me, but it's not very noticeable.
"Well, I should go. I need to get back home," Jeff says, saying goodbye to me. He leans in and kisses my cheek before leaving.
"Let me know when you get home," I tell him. He nods before leaving the room, leaving me alone with Officer García.
I knew him well enough, so the discomfort wasn't an issue, but the subject we were about to discuss was.
"Did he hurt you?" he asks, checking to see if I have any scratches or injuries. I shake my head, showing my arms as proof that the attacker didn't reach us.
"Your mother already gave me the description based on what Jeff said."
"Did she also tell you who she's blaming?"
"Ari, we should also talk about that, about the young man Liam," he replies, which takes me by surprise. What? Had my mother convinced him?
"Do you think he's involved? You're joking, right?"
"I thought the same thing when they called me. She knows very well it could be a possibility. Along with your mother, we were notified about something from the hospital where Liam was admitted two years ago, when he was declared guilty of gender-based violence."
They were notified? After two years? Wasn't the case supposed to be closed?
"I need you to be discreet with this information. You can't tell Liam anything, because he'll be informed by my partner, who is likely heading to his house to notify him of what was discovered," he continues. I pay close attention. He opens his jacket and pulls out a file containing several sheets with hospital test results.
Medical Report
Patient: Liam Martínez de la Cruz
Date of Admission: 05/10/2023
Reason for Admission:
The patient was admitted due to recurrent episodes of seizures and mood alterations, characterized by episodes of intense anger and abrupt behavioral changes, despite being under pharmacological treatment to control these symptoms.
Clinical Findings:
During the initial evaluation, signs of autonomic hyperactivity were observed, including mydriasis (significantly dilated pupils), psychomotor agitation, and episodes of disorientation. Due to the severity of the clinical condition, toxicological studies were conducted to rule out the presence of exogenous substances that could be exacerbating the patient's condition.
Laboratory Results:
Blood tests revealed the presence of a highly toxic and illicit substance, documented in international studies for its severe neurotoxic effects. A common pattern has been identified in patients exposed to this substance, characterized by:
Paranoid-type hallucinations, in which the patient perceives a nonexistent threat.
Intense emotional reactions, predominantly aggressive, due to altered perception of reality.
Severe chest pain associated with the toxicity of the chemical components present in the substance.
Episodes of post-intoxication amnesia, preventing the patient from recalling events that occurred under the influence of the drug.
Total loss of control over actions and behavior while the effects of the substance persist, rendering the patient incapable of regulating impulses or responding consciously to their environment.
Diagnosis:
Acute intoxication by highly toxic psychoactive substances, with severe neurological and behavioral manifestations.
Conclusion and Recommendations:
Given that the ingested substance causes a total loss of cognitive and emotional control until its effects wear off, patient management should focus on symptomatic control and medical stabilization. Continuous monitoring in a secure hospital environment is recommended, as well as the implementation of a detoxification protocol and psychiatric follow-up to assess potential neuropsychiatric sequelae.
Signed:
Dr. Ángel de la Barrera
Specialist in Toxicology and Psychiatry
I didn't know if what I had just read was real.
They had found this document.
All this time, no one knew why Liam had changed, not even himself, and now, after two years, the truth had finally come to light.
Just when I thought that episode was closed, it seemed to be coming back to life.
No, someone wanted to bring it back.
"Is this real?" I ask Officer García, and he nods, apologetically.
"Did you only realize this now?" I ask, unable to believe it.
"We regret our lack of efficiency in this case. If this report had reached my hands earlier, we would have taken other actions, I assure you," he says, avoiding my gaze, preparing for what he's about to say.
"I know that, regardless, he hit me, I suffered, and it was hard for me. I couldn't sleep for nights, afraid of suffering more violence. But he, over and over again, asked for help, because he claimed he didn't know what was happening to him. He got frustrated with me, but I didn't know how to respond because no one knew what was going on. He wasn't a drug addict. That's why I was so determined not to leave him, because something inside me told me there was something hidden."
I throw the file at his face. It doesn't faze him at all. He doesn't move. Suddenly, painful memories flood my mind, as if they wanted to remind me of the pain, just like the first time.
"The charges will be modified. The fact is that he used his hands against you, but not voluntarily, so his image will be cleared," Officer García replies.
"Security cameras captured a boy taking Liam's file, which was supposed to be sent along with others. He took that one specifically to discard it. The one I gave you isn't the original, but we contacted the doctor, who had a copy and assured us he had no knowledge that it never reached the police. He deeply regretted everything related to the boy, because he knew how young he was."
A boy. He referred to someone young.
I wasn't expecting this.
"When you say a boy, do you mean someone our age?"
"Yes. His build was that of a boy around sixteen to eighteen years old, but we're talking about almost two years ago. However, when comparing certain details with the video of the attack, we noticed something strange: on his wrist, he had a tattoo with the number 181222. In both videos, the person had the tattoo in the same place, on the right hand."
"The same person wanted Liam to be blamed, and our theory is that his medication was replaced with the drug. So every time he took it, instead of getting the expected results and feeling calm, it caused severe consequences, dragging you down with him. But the reason he attacked you, we couldn't understand. Too much time has passed, and he got what he wanted. But now, what's his problem?"
Everything began to make sense.
It fit, as if every piece of the puzzle had been hidden, and now they were being found little by little.
"I hope I'm wrong with my assumption, because if I'm not, you, Miss Ari, would be at very high risk. Have you watched the news lately?"
"Honestly, I don't watch much television," I reply, unaware of what I'm about to hear.
"During the summer vacation, two girls were found dead in Mexico City. At first, they thought one had run away and then committed suicide. The other was declared missing, but later found buried in a forest with signs of violence. To the authorities' surprise, both had two drugs in their system: one detected in Liam's body and another that immobilized them, making them perceive reality in a distorted way. I'm telling you this for a reason: the boy who did all this is no older than eighteen. He behaves similarly with his victims before killing them: he ingests a drug that makes them believe they're in danger, as if it were a game to him, but they never manage to escape because they don't see reality clearly. Then he forces them to ingest the other drug to finish them off."
"None of them survived?" I ask, completely shocked. They were just a game to him, and he simply killed them as if they were nothing.
"Unfortunately, no. The person hasn't been captured, but he's still in the country. If he's in Nuevo León, you could be the next victim. I don't know if I'm getting ahead of myself, but the coincidences in these cases are not random. And I'm warning you because I don't want the same thing to happen to you."
"But after two years? If I was his target, why didn't he do it when I was sixteen?"
"I couldn't tell you. He pushed Liam away, and now, if he tried to push someone else away, he knew you were with him. These types of people try to isolate their victim."
Isolate their victim.
He knew I was with him. Jeff. He knew I was with Jeff. If that boy found out about the rumors of a relationship, then the one he wanted to attack wasn't me—it was him.
"Jeff," I say, and he nods.
"When did I become his target?"
"Sometimes people idealize others because of their physical qualities or simply because they have them close. But if, once they get close, it's not what they expected, they end up doing what's most common in these cases: killing them," he says, glancing toward the door, as if noticing there was no one else.
"What worries me most is that he's already close to you. If that's the case, you'd be in even greater danger."
"Someone close to me is stalking me?" I ask, a sense of unease spreading through my body.
"I mean that, during these two years, he's pretended to be a good person to get close to you, and we didn't even notice. Although the cameras show a man, we can't rule out the possibility that it's a woman. But I'm almost certain it's a man."
Someone around me was a hypocrite, but there were so many names that I didn't know if I was thinking clearly.
"If he tries to do to me what he did to those girls, do I have any chance of surviving?" I ask.
Now terrified of the next day, when I'd have to go back to school and face everyone around me, wondering if any of them wanted to hurt me.
"Most girls don't survive, but that won't be your case. We're acting in time," he says, trying to calm me when he sees me trembling from all the information.
"I want you to tell me the truth. How likely is it that I'd survive if I disappeared like those girls?" I ask directly, making him flinch at my tone.
"Honestly, miss… it would be one in a million."