Chapter 9 - Rebuilding from the Ashes
Six months later, the old house in Coyoacán looked completely different. Mariana had hired a team of architects to completely demolish the old patio and the orange tree. In its place, they built a beautiful, sunlit glass greenhouse filled with vibrant orchids, white roses, and soft, cushioned seating areas.
The dark, heavy furniture that smelled of Ricardo’s expensive cologne was gone, replaced by light, natural wood and bright, colorful tapestries. The house no longer smelled like an expensive, stolen paradise; it smelled of fresh paint, lavender, and home-cooked meals.
Mariana had taken over full leadership of Vargas & Sons Construction. She purged the corrupt board members Ricardo had installed, restructuring the company into a highly successful enterprise that dedicated a substantial portion of its monthly profits to funding local orphanages and child rehabilitation centers.
But her greatest triumph was unfolding in the garden.
Mateo, now six years old, was running across the lush green grass. He had gained healthy weight, his cheeks were rosy, and his laughter—a sweet, musical sound—rang out as he chased Max, the plush toy replaced now by a real, hyperactive golden retriever puppy.
"Careful, mi amor!" Mariana called out, sitting on the porch with a cup of tea.
Mateo stopped, turning to look at her. He didn't run away. He didn't hide. He smiled, his bright brown eyes reflecting the afternoon sun. He ran up the wooden steps, his small sneakers thudding happily, and threw his arms completely around Mariana’s neck.
"Look, mamá! Max found a stick!" Mateo said, his voice smooth and clear, showing only a minor, endearing stutter that his therapists assured Mariana would disappear with time.
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Mariana buried her face in his hair, which now smelled of sweet baby soap, fresh air, and warm blankets. Exactly as she had remembered it five years ago.
"That’s a beautiful stick, my prince," Mariana whispered, kissing his forehead.
