Six months. That's how long it took. Endless hours of evidence gathering, interviews, narrow escapes, and threats. But it was done.
The corruption case was finally resolved.
The courtroom was silent when the final verdict came in—guilty. Several high-ranking officials were convicted. Victor Zaldivar had been arrested, and with the files we uncovered, the web of lies began to unravel publicly. Justice had won—thanks to two relentless forensic minds.
Judge Vega approached us quietly afterward. "You both saved lives," he said. "You exposed what no one else dared. For that, you deserve rest."
He smiled. "Six months off. Full pay. Go live. Go breathe."
That evening, I arrived back home. The scent of Amara's cooking filled the house. Israel, now three, ran into my arms with a bright, innocent smile that melted every ache in my body.
"Daddy's home!" she shouted.
Amara embraced me tightly, tears welling in her eyes. "I missed you so much, Santiago."
We sat at the dinner table, and as Israel played with her toys nearby, I told Amara everything—what we uncovered, how close we came to danger, how we survived.
Her eyes widened at moments. She held my hand tighter during others.
Then I mentioned Emma.
"Emma was... incredible. She's sharp, observant, brave. I wouldn't have made it through without her. And—honestly—she's very beautiful too. People respect her the moment she walks into a room."
I didn't notice the shift in Amara's expression at first. Her warmth faded. Her grip on her wine glass tightened.
"She's… what?" she asked coldly.
I looked up. "I mean—she's smart. Elegant in how she works. I didn't mean it like—"
Amara stood up, crossing her arms. "So that's what this case was for you? Playing hero next to a pretty coworker while I was here raising our daughter alone?"
My heart dropped. "Amara, no. That's not what I meant—"
"Do you know how many nights I stayed up crying? Wondering if you'd make it back alive? And now you come home and the first name you praise isn't your wife—it's Emma."
Silence.
"I didn't cheat on you," I whispered. "I never would. You and Israel… you're everything to me."
Amara's voice cracked. "Then show it. Choose your words carefully next time, Santiago."
She walked away, taking Israel with her into the bedroom.
I sat in the kitchen alone, the weight of the mission—and the personal price—crashing down on me.
Justice had been served.
But at what cost?