CHAPTER 7: SHADOWS OF THE PAST
The divorce was finalized three months later. Sofia legally dropped the name Rodriguez, reclaiming her identity as Sofia Parker. To celebrate her newfound freedom, she decided to host a small, intimate dinner at her apartment, inviting only me, Alexander, and her closest childhood friend, Maya.
It was supposed to be a night of healing, but the universe wasn't done testing us yet.
Just as I was helping Sofia set the table, her phone rang. It was an unknown number. Sofia hesitated, then put it on speakerphone.
"Sofia... please don't hang up."
It was Javier. His voice sounded hoarse, barely recognizable.
"Javier, you are not supposed to be contacting me. My lawyers—"
"I know, I know," he interrupted, sounding desperate. "I'm using a payphone near the train station. My mother... she’s gone crazy, Sofia. The bank frozen all our remaining assets today. She’s planning to flee the country before the final sentencing next week. She has a second passport."
Alexander, who had just walked into the kitchen, immediately froze. He snatched the phone from Sofia’s hand. "Where is she, Javier?"
"Mr. Parker?" Javier gasped. "I... I don't know exactly. She packed a suitcase and left an hour ago. But she took a file from our home safe. It has documents about your old company logistics. She muttered something about making sure everyone goes down with her. She’s going to release confidential data to the press to tank your stock before she leaves."
"Why are you telling us this, Javier?" I asked, stepping closer to the phone. "You helped her."
A long silence stretched over the line. When Javier spoke again, he sounded like he was weeping. "Because I loved Sofia. In my own twisted, cowardly way, I did. I let my mother dictate my life until I lost the only good thing I ever had. I don't want anyone else to get hurt. Please... stop her."
The line went dead.
Within minutes, Alexander was on his phone with his security team and the police. The atmosphere in the apartment shifted from celebratory to frantic.
"She’s going to the private airfield in Teterboro," Alexander said, his eyes narrowing as he read a text from his tech team tracking Carmen's known rental car. "She still has a connection there. If she gets on that plane, we’ll never extradite her."
"I'm coming with you," I said firmly, grabbing my coat.
"Elena, no, it's dangerous," Alexander insisted, his old instincts kicking in.
"Alexander!" I snapped, stopping him in his tracks. "We talked about this. No more playing the lone hero. We are in this together. She tried to destroy our daughter. I am not sitting at home waiting for a phone call."
Alexander stared at me, surprised by my fierce determination. A slow, genuine smile touched his lips—the first real smile I had seen from him in years. "Alright. Let's go."
We left Sofia with Maya and dashed out into the pouring rain. As Alexander drove through the slick city streets, the tension was palpable. The drama wasn't just about a bitter mother-in-law escaping justice; it was about finally putting an end to the ghosts that had haunted our family for a decade.
We arrived at the airfield just as a sleek corporate jet was preparing to taxi. Two police cruisers pulled up right behind us, sirens wailing.
Alexander and I stepped out of the car. Through the rain, we saw Carmen being intercepted by airport security near the tarmac. She was screaming, kicking her heels, throwing her designer purse at the officers.
As the police cuffed her, she saw us standing under the hangar lights.
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"You think you've won?!" she shrieked, her hair soaked and stuck to her face. "You're all cursed! Alexander, you're a monster! Elena, your daughter will always be a broken divorcée! You haven't won anything!"
I walked up to her, standing just inches away from her bitter, defeated face. "My daughter is free," I said softly but with absolute authority. "And you are going exactly where you belong."
