Chapter 2: The Secret Inside The Wreck
I don’t remember the last few miles to the crash site.
I remember the sound of my own breathing.
I remember my hands shaking on the steering wheel.
I remember repeating the same sentence over and over.
“My son is alive.””
Because if I stopped saying it, I was afraid I would believe something else.
When I finally saw the flashing lights ahead, my chest tightened.
Two police cars blocked the road.
An ambulance sat nearby with its doors open.
The damaged SUV was on the side of the road, its front end crushed against a concrete barrier.
For a moment, I couldn’t move.
That was the vehicle my son had been sitting in.
That was where my family had decided his life was an inconvenience.
I jumped out before the car fully stopped.
“Mateo!””
An officer immediately walked toward me.
“Ma’am, are you Elena Martinez?””
“Yes. Where is my son?””
He pointed toward the ambulance.
“He’s being treated.””
I ran.
“Mom!””
I heard his voice.
And that sound nearly brought me to my knees.
Mateo was lying on the stretcher, pale and exhausted.
His face was covered in dirt.
His hair was messy.
But he was alive.
I grabbed his hand.
“Oh my God.””
He looked at me and tears filled his eyes.
“I knew you’d come.””
I pressed my forehead against his.
“Of course I came.””
A paramedic checked his injuries.
“Ma’am, we need to transport him. He has a serious leg injury, but he’s stable.””
Stable.
That word was the most beautiful thing I had ever heard.
I looked at Mateo.
“Who was driving?””
His expression changed.
He looked past me.
Toward my parents.
My mother stood near the police car.
Perfectly calm.
Not crying.
Not shaking.
Not acting like someone whose grandson had almost died.
She was staring at me.
Like she already knew everything had changed.
“Mateo?”” I whispered.
He squeezed my hand.
“It wasn’t Aunt Camila’s fault.””
I looked at him.
“What?””
His eyes moved toward my mother.
“She wasn’t driving.””
A cold feeling spread through my body.
“What do you mean?””
Before he could answer, my mother stepped forward.
“Enough.””
Her voice was sharp.
“This is not the place for family drama.””
I turned toward her.
Family drama.
That was what she called this.
My injured son.
Her grandson.
A wrecked car.
A hidden box.
“Mom,” I said quietly.
She looked at me.
“You’re making a scene.””
I stared at her.
“No.””
My voice shook.
“You almost let my son die.””
Several people nearby turned.
My mother’s expression hardened.
“Watch your words.””
“Why?””
I stepped closer.
“Because they’re true?””
My father moved between us.
“Elena, calm down.””
I laughed.
A small, broken laugh.
“Calm down?””
I pointed toward the ambulance.
“That is my child in there.””
My father looked away.
That was when I knew.
He knew.
Both of them knew.
Officer Daniels approached.
“Mrs. Martinez, we need to ask you some questions.””
My mother immediately interrupted.
“There’s been a misunderstanding.””
The officer looked at her.
“Mrs. Graciela Martinez?””
“Yes.””
“We’ll need your statement.””
She smiled politely.
“Of course.””
But I noticed something.
Her hands were trembling.
Only slightly.
Almost invisible.
Except I had spent my entire life knowing my mother.
And I knew when she was afraid.
The officer looked at me.
“Your son mentioned a black box.””
My eyes moved back to my mother.
“What box?””
Nobody answered.
The silence said enough.
I turned toward my father.
“What did you take from that car?””
His face tightened.
“Nothing.””
“Then why did the officer see you holding something?””
My father looked angry.
Not guilty.
Angry.
Like I was the problem.
“You don’t understand what happened.””
“Then explain it.””
My mother stepped forward.
“Your son was confused.””
I stared at her.
“He was trapped in a car.””
She didn’t respond.
“He was injured.””
Silence.
“And you told him not to call for help.””
Her eyes narrowed.
“You don’t know what you heard.””
I took out my phone.
Her face changed.
Just for a second.
“What?””
I looked directly at her.
“I heard everything.””
The color drained from her face.
My father looked at her.
A tiny movement.
But I saw it.
Fear.
Because they both understood.
I had heard the truth.
The ambulance doors closed behind me as Mateo was taken away.
But before the vehicle pulled away, he lifted his head.
“Mom.””
I walked closer.
“What?””
His voice was weak.
“There’s something in that box.””
I looked back at my mother.
“What kind of something?””
Mateo swallowed.
“The reason Aunt Camila crashed.””
My heart stopped.
The ambulance began moving.
And behind me, my mother whispered something I was never supposed to hear.
“She knows.””
I turned around.
My mother was looking at my father.
Not at me.
Not at the ambulance.
At him.
May you like
And my father quietly answered:
“Then we have to find it before she does.””
