CHAPTER 2:Adrian was on his hands and knees, scrubbing a red wine stain from the Persian rug in the foyer, when the front door swung open without a knock.The chill evening air swept in first, carrying the scent of expensive perfume and cigar smoke. Then came the Vega family.Grandma Rosario led the procession, her silver hair coiled into an unforgiving bun, a fur stole draped over her shoulders despite the mild weather.Her eyes, the color of flint, scanned the entryway and landed on Adrian.He froze, sponge in hand, cannula in his nose, oxygen tank resting beside him like a loyal, wheezing dog.Rosario’s lip curled. “Up, Adrián. You look like a servant.”He was. In every way that mattered.Behind her, Elena’s elder brother, Mateo, strode in, already barking into his phone about stock prices.His wife, a willowy woman with bored eyes, followed, barely glancing at the man on the floor.Next came Elena’s two younger sisters, Sofia and Inés, giggling over something on a glittering phon

CHAPTER 4:The thirty dollars felt like a burning coal in Adrian’s pocket. He hadn’t cashed the insult of a cheque.He’d walked instead to a quiet, clean-looking café he had passed a hundred times but could never afford, and spent half of it on a single meal: chilaquiles en salsa verde, Elena’s favorite from their early days, packed carefully in a white cardboard container.It was a fool’s errand. A final, fragile string of hope he was clinging to as he made the long walk to Valencia Tower, that if she saw this, if she tasted this memory, she might remember the man he used to be, not the ghost he had become.The Valencia tower, was a sleek spear of glass and steel, stabbed at the Mexico City sky.It bore her family’s name. He’d never been inside. He wasn’t welcome in the places where she was real.But in his hand, he held the warm weight of the container, a last offering before the altar of her indifference.Every step was a prayer. Every ragged breath behind his cannula was a plea. F

CHAPTER 6: Adrian woke up, and for a long moment, he knew nothing but softness. Soft sheets. A soft, quiet room.Then the memory hit him like a truck.Diego’s cold smile. The sharp pull of the cannula ripping from his nose. The smoke forced into his lungs.Elena’s face, watching him choke, her eyes bright with relief. The bridge. The fall. The freezing, black water swallowing him whole.He sat up with a gasp, his hand flying to his chest.No cannula.No hiss of oxygen.His heart was beating, a slow, strong, steady drum against his ribs. He took a deliberate breath. Deep. Clear. No rattle. No pain.That’s impossible.He looked down at his hands. They were pale, but the blue veins he was used to seeing were gone. His skin looked smooth, almost new.He touched his face. No stubble. Like no time had passed at all.Panic, his old friend, started to rise. But it felt muted, like he was hearing it from another room. His senses were… loud.He could hear the faint hum of electricity in the wa

CHAPTER 8:He led Adrian out of the dining room, down another lavish corridor, and into his study. It was a room of quiet power. Floor-to-ceiling bookshelves held ancient-looking leather-bound volumes. A massive desk of carved ebony sat before a window overlooking a private, walled garden. The air smelled of aged paper, fine whisky, and that same wild, metallic undercurrent.Rafael went to a locked cabinet. From it, he withdrew not a file, but a small, faded photograph in a simple silver frame. He handed it to Adrian.The photo showed a man and a woman, their faces radiant with joy. The woman was beautiful, with kind eyes and Adrian’s same dark hair. The man had Adrian’s jawline, his smile.And in the woman’s arms, swaddled in a white blanket, was a newborn.Adrian’s own infant face stared back at him.His breath hitched. He knew this photo. It was in the thin file at the orphanage. Sister Margarita had said it was left with him. He’d always assumed the couple were kindly donors, now

CHAPTER 10 The scene froze, then dissolved into blank whiteness. “What happened?” Adrian asked. “That was all the memory in that door,” Rafael said with a gentle smile. He moved further down the invisible hall. “Let’s go to the next one. Remember, nothing here can hurt you, and you can’t change anything. So stay calm.” Adrian felt a wave of nervousness. He was about to enter a critical memory, and he wasn’t sure he was ready. His uncle turned the next doorknob. Just like before, a bright light swallowed them, and they found themselves standing in a dense, shadowy forest. “Where are we?” “The Darien Gap,” Rafael said quietly. “Mexico’s most dangerous wilderness. Full of rogue supernatural creatures and local mafia cartels.” Adrian looked around. The air was thick and still. Giant trees blocked the sky, and the only sounds were the distant calls of strange birds. He couldn’t believe his parents had come to a place like this… for him. Then he saw them. His father w