Don Chema closed his eyes.
He understood.
They purchased supplies.
Reported them missing.
Purchased replacements through companies connected to Robles.
Then blamed the disappearing inventory on someone who no longer worked there.
Him.
The poor retired janitor.
The man nobody important would defend.
Except they had made one enormous mistake.
They knew Chema was poor.
They knew he lived modestly.
They knew his pension barely covered his medicine.
But they hadn’t bothered learning what happened to the three orphan girls he raised.
Sofía became a lawyer.
Lucía became a forensic accountant.
And Valeria—
Judge Vargas looked toward her.
“You said someone contacted you.”
Valeria went still.
“Yes, Your Honor.”
“Who?”
She glanced toward Chema.
Tears suddenly filled her eyes.
“Someone from the school.”
Sofía whispered, “Valeria…”
“No.”
Valeria shook her head.
“He deserves to know.”
She reached into her bag.
Then removed a small flash drive.
