Chapter 5 - THE RACE AGAINST TIMEPain.
A searing, throbbing ache echoed through Rosa’s head as she slowly regained consciousness.
She opened her eyes, struggling against a wave of intense nausea. She was lying on the cold, corrugated metal floor of a moving vehicle. Her hands were bound behind her back with thick plastic zip-ties, and heavy duct tape was pressed firmly over her mouth.
The vehicle was swaying violently, pitching side to side as it navigated sharp mountain curves. Through the small, barred back window of the utility van, Rosa could see the dense pine trees of the Toluca highway rushing past under a dark, stormy sky.
Up in the driver’s seat, Bravo was calmly driving, listening to low radio news.
Rosa lay on the metal floor, her mind spinning frantically.
Camila.
Valeria was going to administer the final, lethal dose tonight. With Rosa gone, there was no one left to protect the little girl. No one to stop Valeria from pouring the poisoned white liquid down Camila’s throat.
Rosa struggled against the zip-ties, the sharp plastic cutting deep into her wrists, drawing blood. The pain was agonizing, but it was nothing compared to the terror gripping her heart.
She looked around the dark floor of the van. Near her feet lay a sharp, rusted metal bracket from an old tool rack that had broken off.
Carefully, suppressing a groan of pain, Rosa dragged herself across the floor toward the bracket. She positioned her hands behind her back, pressing the thick plastic band against the sharp edge of the metal blade.
She began to saw her wrists up and down against the metal.
Faster. Faster.
The rusted edge tore into her skin, blood pouring over her hands, but Rosa didn't care. She sawed frantically, counting every second in her head.
One... two... three...
SNAP.
The plastic tie snapped open.
Rosa instantly ripped the duct tape from her mouth, holding back a gasp of air.
At that exact moment, Bravo looked in the rearview mirror and saw Rosa sitting up on the floor.
“What the hell—” Bravo yelled, reaching for his gun on the passenger seat.
Before he could pull the weapon, Rosa lunged forward with all the strength left in her body, grabbing the heavy steering wheel and yanking it violently to the right!
The utility van swerved wildly off the asphalt road, its tires screeching against the wet pavement! The vehicle slammed into the metal guardrail, sparks flying everywhere, before coming to a violent, jarring halt against a thick pine tree!
The impact threw Bravo forward, his head slamming hard against the steering wheel, knocking him instantly unconscious.
Rosa was battered and bruised, her shoulder aching from the crash, but she didn't lose a second. She reached into the front seat, grabbed Bravo’s mobile phone and his key ring, scrambled out of the dented side door, and ran out onto the highway into the pouring rain!
She didn't know how to drive a car, but she ran to a passing commercial transport truck that had pulled over to avoid the crash.
The truck driver, a burly man, rolled down his window in shock as a bloody, wet housekeeper slammed her hands against his door.
“Help me!” Rosa screamed above the roaring rain and wind. “Please, in the name of God, help me! A child is being murdered in Las Lomas! Take me to the city!”
The driver looked at her bleeding wrists, the absolute desperation in her eyes, and unlocked the passenger door. “Get in!”
As the heavy truck roared back down the mountain toward Mexico City, Rosa grabbed Bravo’s phone and dialed the only number she knew by heart—the direct executive line of Esteban Torres’s private office, a number printed on every household emergency card in the mansion.
The phone rang once. Twice. Three times.
“This is Esteban Torres,” a tired, firm voice answered on the line.
“Mr. Torres!” Rosa shrieked into the phone, her voice cracking with pure emotion. “Listen to me! Do not let Valeria touch Camila! Do not let her give her any medicine!”
There was a sudden pause on the line. “Rosa? Is that you? What are you talking about? Where are you? Valeria said you quit this afternoon and stole money from the safe—”
“SHE IS POISONING YOUR DAUGHTER!” Rosa screamed, her voice cutting through the speaker like a thunderbolt. “She poisoned your wife Sofia four years ago, and she is poisoning Camila with thallium sulfate every single night! Check the safe behind the painting in her sitting room! Code 0-7-1-4! The bottles are inside! The dossier is inside!”
“Rosa, have you lost your mind—”
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“LOOK AT THE SAFE, ESTEBAN!” Rosa wept hysterically. “Go to your daughter’s room right now! Look at her hair! Look at her gray skin! Look at the chemical burns on her stomach! If you love your child, go to that safe before Valeria burns the evidence!”
The line went dead.
