Seventeen Calls From a Dying Woman

At 12:19 a.m., the ambulance pulled into the emergency entrance of Monterrey's private maternity hospital.

The doors flew open before the vehicle had fully stopped.

A team of nurses and doctors rushed toward the stretcher. Someone called for an obstetrician. Another nurse pushed a trolley of equipment into the corridor.

Alejandro followed until a nurse placed a hand against his chest.

"Sir, you need to wait here.""

"She's eight months pregnant. She fell down the stairs and has been bleeding.""

"We have the information. The medical team will take care of her.""

"I need to know whether the baby is alive.""

The nurse's expression softened.

"We're going to do everything we can.""

Then she disappeared through the double doors.

Alejandro stood beneath the fluorescent lights, staring at the place where Camila had vanished.

The corridor smelled of disinfectant and stale coffee. A television mounted in the corner played a late-night news broadcast with the sound turned low.

He checked his watch.

12:21 a.m.

Two minutes had passed.

It felt like two hours.

Gabriel arrived moments later, carrying a folder of information the ambulance crew had requested.

"Dr. Reyes is on his way," he said.

"The hospital has called in an additional obstetric team.""

Alejandro nodded without looking at him.

Gabriel hesitated.

"Have you contacted Mateo?""

"I tried.""

"And?""

"His phone is unavailable.""

Gabriel's mouth tightened.

"Do you want me to call his office?""

"No.""

"His parents' house?""

"No.""

"Then what do we do?""

Alejandro finally turned.

"We wait until the doctors tell us what happened. Then we make sure Camila gets whatever care she needs.""

Gabriel nodded.

For several minutes, neither man spoke.

Then Alejandro noticed something lying on the chair beside him.

Camila's handbag.

One of the paramedics must have brought it from the ambulance. The leather was scuffed, and the clasp had broken. A corner of a folded piece of paper protruded from the side pocket.

Alejandro hesitated before opening the bag.

He wasn't looking for secrets.

He wanted her identification, her insurance information, anything that might help the medical team.

Inside, he found her wallet, a small packet of tissues, a tube of hand cream, and a folded ultrasound photograph.

He opened it.

A tiny boy appeared on the grainy black-and-white image, curled inside his mother's womb.

Camila had written a date in blue ink.

Beneath it were four words.

My little miracle. Mateo's son.

Alejandro stared at the photograph.

He remembered the afternoon Camila had told him she was pregnant.

He had been leaving a meeting when she called.

"Guess what?"" she had said.

"What happened?""

"I'm going to be a mother.""

He had laughed.

"And Mateo?""

"He cried.""

Alejandro had stopped walking.

"Mateo cried?""

"Like a child.""

She had laughed through her own tears.

"I've never seen him so happy.""

Alejandro had felt a strange mixture of joy and sadness.

For years, he had wanted Mateo to have a family. He had imagined the two of them growing older, their children playing together, their businesses becoming something their fathers would have been proud to see.

Then Mateo had accused him of theft.

And every future Alejandro had imagined had disappeared.

He placed the ultrasound photograph carefully back inside the handbag.

Gabriel sat beside him.

"Do you think Mateo knows how serious this is?""

Alejandro's expression hardened.

"He knew she was bleeding.""

"How do you know?""

"Because she told me.""

Gabriel looked away.

For the first time since arriving at the hospital, Alejandro felt anger overpower fear.

Mateo hadn't simply missed a call.

He had heard his wife's voice. He had heard her say she was bleeding. He had heard her beg him not to hang up.

And he had chosen a nightclub.

A woman in a red dress.

A glass of tequila.

Alejandro stood.

"Gabriel, I want every detail preserved. The calls, the messages, the time we reached the gate, the security instructions. Everything.""

Gabriel looked up.

"Why?""

"Because if Mateo tries to tell people she was exaggerating, I want the truth documented.""

"Are you planning to take him to court?""

Alejandro looked toward the double doors.

"Right now, I'm planning to make sure he can't erase what happened tonight.""

Before Gabriel could answer, a doctor emerged from the corridor.

She wore blue scrubs beneath a white coat. Her hair was pulled tightly back, and a surgical mask hung around her neck.

"Are you Alejandro Serrano?""

"Yes.""

"I'm Dr. Lucía Reyes. I've been treating Mrs. Villarreal during her pregnancy.""

Alejandro stepped forward.

"How is she?""

Dr. Reyes took a measured breath.

"She's in critical condition. The fall appears to have caused serious complications, and the bleeding is significant. We're preparing her for an emergency procedure.""

"And the baby?""

"The baby's heartbeat is present, but we're concerned about fetal distress.""

Alejandro's knees felt weak.

"Can you save them?""

"We're doing everything possible. I need to ask you something. Do you know whether Mrs. Villarreal has any allergies or underlying medical conditions?""

"No.""

"Her husband should have that information.""

Alejandro looked at the floor.

"I understand.""

Dr. Reyes studied him for a moment.

"Are you a relative?""

"No. I'm a friend.""

"Then I need you to contact her husband immediately. We may need family authorization for certain decisions, depending on what happens next.""

"I've tried. His phone is switched off.""

The doctor's expression sharpened.

"Switched off?""

"Yes.""

She looked toward the operating corridor.

"Try again. This is not a situation that can wait until morning.""

Alejandro pulled out his phone.

He dialed Mateo's number.

Unavailable.

He tried once more.

The same recorded message.

Gabriel leaned closer.

"Let me call Valeria. She might know where he is.""

Alejandro stared at him.

"Valeria?""

"Mateo's girlfriend. Everyone in his business circle knows about her.""

Alejandro had heard rumors, of course. People talked. Mateo had become careless about hiding his affair, and Valeria had appeared at several industry events on his arm.

But Alejandro had refused to concern himself with Mateo's private life.

Until now.

"Call her," he said.

Gabriel dialed the number from his contacts.

A woman answered after several rings.

"Hello?""

"This is Gabriel Ortega, Mr. Serrano's assistant. Is Mateo Villarreal with you?""

A pause.

"Why?""

"His wife is in the hospital. She's critically ill. We need to speak to him immediately.""

Silence.

Then Valeria said, "I don't know what you expect me to do.""

"Tell us where he is.""

"He's at the club.""

"Which club?""

Another pause.

"Why should I tell you anything?""

Alejandro took the phone from Gabriel.

"Because Camila might die tonight.""

Valeria's voice changed.

"I didn't know it was that serious.""

"You heard her calling him?""

"I heard him talking to her.""

"And what did he say?""

"I don't know. I wasn't listening.""

Alejandro closed his eyes briefly.

"Give me the name of the club.""

She hesitated.

Then she gave him the address.

He ended the call.

Gabriel stared at him.

"You're going there?""

"I'm not leaving Camila. But someone needs to tell Mateo what he's done.""

"I'll go.""

"No. Stay here. If the doctors need anything, I want you available.""

Gabriel nodded.

Alejandro sat down again, the ultrasound photograph still vivid in his mind.

He had spent five years trying to forget Mateo Villarreal.

Now he was sitting outside an operating room, praying that Mateo's wife and unborn son would survive the consequences of his betrayal.

And he had never felt so helpless.

At 12:37 a.m., the nightclub was still packed.

The music had grown louder. The lights flashed across the dance floor, illuminating faces turned upward in careless delight.

Mateo stood beside the bar, arguing with Valeria about a photograph she had posted online.

"Why did you tag me?"" he asked.

Valeria folded her arms.

"Because I was there with you.""

"You know I don't want photographs of us circulating.""

"Funny. You didn't seem worried when you kissed me in front of Diego.""

"That was different.""

"How?""

Mateo exhaled sharply.

"Because people know I'm married.""

Valeria laughed without humor.

"So you're happy to cheat on your wife, but you don't want anyone to know you're cheating on your wife?""

"Keep your voice down.""

"No. I'm tired of pretending I'm some secret you can put away whenever it suits you.""

Mateo glanced around.

Several people were looking in their direction.

He grabbed her wrist.

"Not here.""

She pulled free.

"Don't touch me like that.""

For a moment, he looked as if he might shout.

Then his phone rang.

He stared at the screen.

Unknown number.

He rejected the call.

Valeria watched him.

"Was that the hospital?""

"How would I know?""

"Maybe you should answer it.""

"Maybe you should mind your own business.""

The phone rang again.

Mateo's jaw tightened.

He answered.

"What?""

A man's voice came through.

"Mateo Villarreal?""

"Who is this?""

"Dr. Lucía Reyes. I'm calling from the hospital where your wife has been admitted.""

Mateo stopped moving.

"What happened?""

"Your wife suffered a serious fall. She's in critical condition, and we're preparing her for emergency surgery.""

For a moment, the nightclub seemed to tilt around him.

"What?""

"Mrs. Villarreal has been brought in with significant bleeding. You need to come to the hospital immediately.""

Mateo stared at the floor.

"Is the baby—"

"We are doing everything possible. Please come now.""

The call ended.

Valeria touched his arm.

"Mateo?""

He looked at her, his face suddenly pale.

"Camila's in the hospital.""

"What happened?""

"She fell down the stairs.""

Valeria's eyes widened.

"Is she all right?""

He couldn't answer.

His mind returned to the phone call he had dismissed.

There's blood, and I can't—

He heard Camila's voice again.

I don't want to die alone.

His stomach lurched.

He pulled his phone from his pocket and switched off airplane mode.

The screen filled with notifications.

Seventeen missed calls from Camila.

Three messages from the housekeeper.

Two calls from an unknown number.

One message from Diego, sent twenty minutes earlier.

Mateo, seriously. Call your wife. Something doesn't feel right.

Mateo stared at the screen.

His thumb moved over Camila's name.

He pressed call.

It rang once.

Then a recorded voice announced that the number was unavailable.

He tried again.

Nothing.

"Get the car," he told Diego.

Diego was already reaching for his keys.

"Let's go.""

Mateo turned toward Valeria.

"Come with me.""

She stared at him.

"Why?""

"Because I need to get to the hospital.""

"You don't need me there.""

"Valeria, don't do this now.""

She looked at him for several seconds.

Then she said quietly, "You told me your wife was fine. You told me she was always exaggerating. You told me she called you because she wanted attention.""

Mateo swallowed.

"She was calling too much.""

"Seventeen times?""

He looked away.

Valeria stepped back.

"I asked you to answer her. Remember? I told you it was cruel to ignore her.""

"Please.""

"No, Mateo. You don't get to ask me to make you feel better about this.""

She picked up her handbag.

"I'm going home.""

He reached for her.

"Valeria, wait.""

She pulled away.

"If your son dies tonight, I don't want to be the person standing beside you while you explain why you didn't answer your wife's calls.""

Her words landed harder than any accusation he had heard before.

Valeria walked toward the exit.

Mateo remained beside the bar, surrounded by music and people who had no idea that his life had just begun to unravel.

Then Diego shouted from the doorway.

"Mateo! The car's here!""

Mateo ran.

The drive to the hospital took twenty-three minutes.

Mateo remembered every red light.

Every car that moved too slowly.

Every second he spent trapped behind someone who had no idea that a child might be dying while they waited for traffic to move.

He called Camila again and again.

No answer.

He called the housekeeper.

She answered in tears.

"Mr. Villarreal?""

"What happened? Where is my wife?""

"She fell down the stairs. I found her at the bottom.""

"Why didn't you call me?""

The housekeeper made a broken sound.

"Mrs. Camila told me she had been calling you. She said you were busy.""

Mateo gripped the phone.

"Why didn't you call the ambulance?""

"I was told she wanted to rest. I thought she was upstairs. When I went to check, she was already—"

"Who told you that?""

"You did, sir.""

The words silenced him.

He remembered the message he had sent earlier that evening.

Camila is tired and needs rest. Don't disturb her unless it's urgent.

He had sent it because he wanted privacy with Valeria.

Now the housekeeper was crying because she had followed his instructions.

Mateo ended the call.

Diego glanced at him.

"Are you okay?""

Mateo laughed once, a dry, broken sound.

"Does it look like I'm okay?""

Diego said nothing.

They reached the hospital at 1:06 a.m.

Mateo ran through the emergency entrance, his expensive shoes striking the polished floor.

A nurse approached him.

"Can I help you?""

"My wife. Camila Villarreal. She was brought in with an ambulance.""

The nurse checked her screen.

"She's in surgery.""

Mateo went still.

"Surgery?""

"Please wait in the family area. The doctor will speak with you when there's an update.""

"How is my son?""

The nurse looked at him.

"Sir, I don't have that information.""

"Then find someone who does!""

His voice echoed through the corridor.

A security guard turned toward them.

The nurse's expression hardened.

"Mr. Villarreal, shouting will not help your wife. The surgical team is treating her.""

Mateo stepped back.

For the first time in his adult life, money, status, and a famous family name could not make another person move faster.

He was simply a husband waiting for news.

And he had no idea whether his wife would survive long enough to hear him apologize.

Then he noticed a man standing near the operating-room doors.

Dark suit. White shirt. A thin scar above his left eyebrow.

Mateo knew that face.

He would have recognized it anywhere.

Alejandro Serrano.

The man Mateo had accused of stealing from him.

The man Mateo had threatened, humiliated, and vowed never to see again.

Alejandro looked up.

Their eyes met across the corridor.

Mateo walked toward him.

"What are you doing here?""

Alejandro didn't move.

"Saving your wife.""

Mateo's face tightened.

"Stay away from my family.""

Alejandro gave a short, disbelieving laugh.

"Your family?""

He stepped closer.

"Where were you, Mateo?""

Mateo looked away.

"That's none of your business.""

"She called you seventeen times.""

The corridor went silent.

Mateo's jaw flexed.

"You don't know what happened.""

"I know she was bleeding on the floor. I know she was terrified. I know she begged you to come home, and you told her to call an ambulance because you were too busy.""

Mateo's face drained of color.

"Who told you that?""

"Camila did. Before she lost consciousness.""

Mateo took a step forward.

"Don't use my wife's name to lecture me.""

Alejandro's expression turned cold.

"Then perhaps you should have answered when she used yours.""

Mateo opened his mouth.

Nothing came out.

Alejandro looked toward the operating-room doors.

"She asked me to promise something before they took her away.""

Mateo's voice was barely audible.

"What?""

Alejandro turned back to him.

"She asked me not to let you take her son away from her.""

Mateo stared at him.

"Why would she say that?""

For the first time that night, Alejandro looked genuinely puzzled.

Then he reached into his jacket and pulled out a folded sheet of paper.

It was a medical document bearing Camila's name.

"I found this in her handbag. The doctors asked me to bring it to you if you arrived.""

Mateo took the paper with trembling fingers.

He looked at the first page.

Then the second.

His expression changed.

"What is this?""

Alejandro watched him carefully.

"That's what I was hoping you could explain.""

Mateo stared at the signature at the bottom of the document.

It was his own.

And beneath it was a clause he had signed three months earlier, one that could change everything about what happened next.

Before he could speak, the operating-room doors opened.

Dr. Reyes stepped into the corridor, her surgical cap still on.

Both men turned toward her.

She looked at Mateo first.

"Mr. Villarreal, I need to speak with you immediately.""

He clutched the document.

"Is my wife alive?""

The doctor hesitated.

"Your wife is still in surgery. We have managed to stabilize her temporarily, but there is a serious complication.""

Mateo's throat tightened.

"What complication?""

Dr. Reyes glanced at Alejandro.

Then she looked back at Mateo.

"We need your consent for an emergency decision. And before you sign anything, you need to understand that the document you've just been handed may affect who has the legal authority to make that decision.""

Mateo stared at her.

"What are you talking about?""

Dr. Reyes took a breath.

"Your wife made arrangements during her pregnancy that you may not know about.""

Alejandro's expression sharpened.

Mateo looked down at the document again.

The signature was unmistakably his.

But the final paragraph contained a name he had not expected to see.

Alejandro Serrano.

And beside that name were the words:

*Emergency guardian and authorized decision-maker.*

Mateo looked up, his face turning white.