The phone slipped from her hand.

“This… isn’t real.”

“There is one condition,” he continued. “You must arrive in Zurich before Friday at 5 p.m. Today is Tuesday.”

Her hope almost collapsed again.

“My passport… Sebastián has it.”

“That has already been handled. A car is waiting outside your hotel. Leave everything behind.”

She ran to the window.

A black van waited in the rain.

At that moment, a message appeared from Sebastián:

“I hope you’ve learned to live without my name.”

Mariana looked at the message.

Then at the car.

And finally—

she smiled.

Three months later, Mariana had disappeared from Mexico.

Rumors spread—she had run away, disappeared, failed.

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