CHAPTER 5 — The Basement of Forgotten Childhoods
CHAPTER 5 — The Basement of Forgotten Childhoods
The basement smelled of cedar, dust, and forgotten years.
James unlocked the heavy storage door with a key that looked older than my company.
As the lights flickered on, my daughters instinctively reached for my hands.
What stood before us stole the air from my lungs.
Shelf after shelf.
Box after box.
Every one of them carefully labeled.
PLAYROOM.
NURSERY.
ART SUPPLIES.
BOOKS.
TOYS.
It looked less like storage...
and more like someone had packed away an entire childhood.
Camila whispered, "That's Bunny."
She broke free from my hand and ran to a faded white stuffed rabbit sitting alone on the top shelf.
Its ear was sewn together with blue thread.
Lucia had stitched it herself the week before the girls turned two.
Camila hugged it tightly, crying into its worn fur.
"I thought Bunny left me."
The words pierced my heart.
"No, sweetheart," I whispered. "Bunny never left."
Someone had taken him away.
Valentina spotted a pink toy piano.
Sofía found the cardboard castle the three girls had painted with their mother, complete with crooked glitter stars and tiny handprints.
Every discovery brought another memory.
Every memory brought another wound.
María covered her mouth to hide her tears.
Even James quietly wiped his eyes.
Only Vanessa remained unmoved.
"They had too many toys," she said flatly. "Children become spoiled when they're surrounded by clutter."
I turned to her.
"You packed away everything their mother touched."
"It was time for them to move on."
"No," I replied. "It was easier for you if they forgot."
I opened another box.
Inside were dozens of picture books.
Many still had sticky notes attached.
Lucia's handwriting.
Read this one when they're scared.
Sofía always laughs at this page.
Valentina loves the dragon.
Camila falls asleep before the ending.
My vision blurred again.
Lucia had prepared these moments...
believing we'd share them together.
Instead, her notes had spent years buried beneath concrete.
"Daddy?"
Sofía gently tugged my sleeve.
"Can we read tonight?"
I swallowed hard.
"Every night."
"Really?"
"Every single night."
Valentina smiled through tears.
"Even if you're busy?"
I knelt in front of them.
"There is nothing in this world more important than bedtime with you."
Three little arms wrapped around my neck.
For the first time in years, I truly felt like their father.
James quietly handed me another box.
"This one was hidden behind the others."
It wasn't labeled.
Inside lay a leather photo album.
Our wedding.
Lucia holding newborn triplets.
Family vacations.
Christmas mornings.
Then, halfway through...
the pages stopped.
The remaining photographs had been removed.
Every empty sleeve had tiny tears along the edges.
Someone hadn't simply taken the pictures.
They had ripped them out.
I looked at Vanessa.
"Where are they?"
"I threw away the damaged ones."
"They weren't damaged."
"They kept the girls stuck in grief."
"No."
I closed the album.
"They reminded them they were loved."
Before anyone could speak again, one of the younger maids appeared at the basement door.
She looked terrified.
"Sir..."
"What is it?"
"A woman is at the front gate."
"Who?"
"Mrs. Elena Moretti."
The name caught me off guard.
Lucia's older sister.
She hadn't visited the mansion in almost two years.
Because every invitation she requested...
Vanessa had claimed the girls were unavailable.
I slowly turned toward my fiancée.
"You told me Elena stopped trying."
Vanessa remained silent.
James answered instead.
"She never stopped, sir."
"What do you mean?"
James looked ashamed.
"She came nearly every month."
The room fell silent.
"Every month?"
"With birthday gifts."
"Christmas presents."
"Easter baskets."
"Letters."
My pulse roared in my ears.
"And?"
James lowered his head.
"Miss Vanessa instructed security to tell her the family wasn't home."
I couldn't breathe.
Lucia's own sister...
had been standing outside my gates for two years.
Believing we had rejected her.
While my daughters believed their aunt had abandoned them.
I walked upstairs without another word.
At the front entrance stood Elena.
She still held a gift bag in one hand.
She looked older.
More tired.
The moment she saw me, she froze.
"I... I didn't know you were home."
I stepped forward slowly.
"I'm sorry."
She frowned.
"For what?"
"For believing lies."
Her eyes filled instantly.
"I never stopped loving those girls, Alejandro."
"I know."
"No..."
She shook her head.
"You don't."
She reached into her purse and pulled out a thick bundle tied with a faded blue ribbon.
"I wrote to them every week."
My heart stopped.
"They never answered."
She handed me the bundle.
May you like
Every envelope bore my daughters' names.
None had been opened.
