At dawn, rescuers began their descent. The crevice swallowed their ropes and light. Eight meters down, they discovered a shred of red fabric – part of Julián’s jacket but it wasn’t torn from a fall. It had been ripped, as if left intentionally.
“He was marking his path,” Morel said. “He was trying to be found.”
Three meters lower lay the second anomaly: a metallic food wrapper with an expiration date two years after the disappearance.
“Could someone have stayed down here?” one technician murmured.
“Or someone found Julián and Clara,” Morel replied. “And said nothing.”
The crevice soon widened into an irregular pocket of space. There, under layers of dust, lay remnants of a makeshift camp: a thermal blanket, an empty can, rope fragments—and, soaking in a corner, another notebook.
