He didn’t kiss their foreheads.

He didn’t ask if they needed clothes, medicine, or anything at all.

He simply turned around and walked toward a white van parked outside the cemetery. Inside, a young woman wearing dark sunglasses waited for him.

That night, I brought my granddaughters home.

I made soup. Heated tortillas. Prepared the room where Rosa used to sleep when she was little.

Renata fell asleep wearing one of her mother’s blouses.

Abril refused to let go of my hand.

Lucía sat silently beside the window for hours.

At three in the morning, she walked quietly into the kitchen.

“Grandpa,” she whispered, “Mom didn’t die just because she was sick.”

My entire body went cold.

“What are you saying?”

Lucía placed a small purple cloth bag on the table.

Inside was an old cellphone, a notebook, and a USB drive.

“Mom told us that if something ever happened to her, we had to give these to someone who still loved her.”

And in that moment, I realized my daughter had left behind much more than memories.

She had left behind the truth.

PART 2

My hands shook as I opened Rosa’s notebook.

Her handwriting appeared neat and delicate at first, exactly the way I remembered it. Grocery lists. Medical appointments. School reminders. Notes about bills and medications.

Then the writing changed.

The letters became tighter. Messier. Nervous.

Like someone writing while afraid of being discovered.

“Arturo says the girls ruined his life.”

“Today he hid my car keys so I couldn’t go to the doctor.”

“They changed my work schedule again. Human Resources said it came from management.”

“Arturo works in Human Resources.”

A chill crawled down my spine.

Rosa and Arturo worked at the same company. She handled administration. He worked in Human Resources, meaning he had control over schedules, leave requests, and internal reports.

I always believed he took care of her.

She often told me she felt exhausted. That her chest hurt. That she couldn’t sleep anymore.

I begged her to stay with me for a while, but she always answered:

“I don’t want my daughters growing up without their father.”

I kept reading.

“They denied my medical leave again.”

“Arturo said if I died, he’d finally feel free.”

“Mariela doesn’t want girls around. Arturo said he would solve that problem.”

I slowly looked up.

“Who’s Mariela?”

Renata answered quietly.

“The woman from the white van.”

Abril started crying.