As Valentina dried one of the babies, she noticed something the chaos of the forest had hidden. A small plastic bracelet on the baby’s wrist, the kind hospitals use. She held it up to the light.
“Santiago, look at this,” she said, her voice trembling.
He stepped closer. The bracelet clearly read: “Baby Girl Moralis.”
“The certificate Ricardo left me said ‘Morales,’ my last name,” Valentina said, feeling a chill that had nothing to do with the cold. “But this says ‘Moralis.’ It’s an ‘i,’ not an ‘e.’”
Their eyes met. If the last name was misspelled or different, then the certificate was fake. And if the certificate was fake, Ricardo’s entire story was an elaborate lie.
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