Salomé took a long moment to answer, carefully searching for her words. “Because he told me that if Dad went out, he would hurt us.” She didn’t say the word “kill,” she didn’t make any direct threats.
But the meaning was crystal clear to the assistant, who felt a knot in her stomach. She had signed reports stating that the child remembered nothing. She had trusted the adults’ statements, ignoring the child’s silences.
In his cell, Ramiro replayed every second of that fateful night over and over. He remembered the argument with his wife, the bitter words they exchanged. He remembered going out onto the patio to breathe the fresh night air.
He remembered returning and finding her lifeless on the cold floor. He remembered shouting Esteban’s name even before the police arrived. This detail was never mentioned at the trial because no one believed him.
Hours later, Mendez finally received a preliminary expert report. The analysis suggested that the fingerprints on the weapon were strangely overlapped and forced, as if someone had pressed Ramiro’s hand onto the object afterward.
The colonel leaned back in his chair, breathless. This didn’t yet prove complete innocence, but the manipulation was blatant. And in irreversible cases, doubt completely changed the legal landscape.
