Chapter 4 - THE WOMAN WHO RAISED HIM
The next morning, Elena returned to St. Catherine's before breakfast. She brought picture books and a knitted blue blanket. Mateo arrived later with their attorney, who had secured an emergency family assessment and a temporary order preventing anyone from removing Gabriel from the residence without court approval.
Gabriel was eating toast when Elena entered.
“Mommy Elena,” he said, then looked uncertain. “Is that okay?”
Elena sat beside him. “You can call me Elena until you decide what feels right.”
He nodded, relieved.
After breakfast, the boy showed them his drawings. One picture showed a house with three people: a woman, a man, and a little boy holding a blue elephant. Above the roof he had written FAMILY in uneven letters.
“Is this your family?” Mateo asked.
“It's the family I want.”
Elena turned away so Gabriel wouldn't see her cry.
Later, Mrs. Alvarez arranged a meeting with Teresa Ruiz's sister, Marisol, who had been listed as Gabriel's emergency contact. Marisol arrived carrying a worn photo album.
“Teresa loved that child,” she said. “She never hid that he was adopted. She told him he had been chosen.”
Elena nodded. “Did she ever tell you who arranged the adoption?”
Marisol hesitated. “A woman from a private family office. She said the birth mother was young, unmarried, and had signed away her rights.”
“I was married,” Elena whispered. “Mateo was there.”
Marisol looked at her with sympathy. “I believe you.”
She opened the album. There were pictures of Gabriel at one, two, and nearly three years old. He was laughing in a garden, holding a birthday cupcake, sleeping against Teresa's shoulder.
Elena traced the edge of one photograph. “Thank you for loving him.”
Marisol's eyes filled. “He gave my sister a reason to keep fighting. I won't pretend this is easy for me. But if you are his parents, he deserves the truth.”
She handed over a small envelope Teresa had left with the album. Inside was a handwritten note.
The woman who arranged Gabriel's adoption told me his birth mother had died. I believed her. Months later, I found a copy of a hospital bracelet in his file with the name Elena Bennett. I called the number on the adoption papers, but the office had closed. I began to suspect the story was false. I was afraid to ask too many questions because I didn't want Gabriel taken away.
The note ended with an address: a law office in San Antonio.
Mateo recognized it. “That's where my mother kept the trust documents.”
Marisol gave them another item: a small silver key that Teresa had found in Gabriel's baby blanket. It had been pinned inside the lining. A number was engraved on it: 317.
Their attorney identified it as a storage-unit key.
Before they left, Gabriel asked whether he could go home with them.
“We want that,” Elena said. “But the court and your doctors need to make sure it's safe. We won't rush you.”
“Will Sofia be there?”
“Yes.”
“Will she like me?”
Elena smiled through tears. “She has been waiting to meet you.”
That afternoon, the attorney arranged a supervised family visit with Sofia. The little girl entered the playroom holding a drawing of a blue house.
“I'm Sofia,” she announced.
Gabriel looked at her. “I'm Gabriel.”
“I know. You're my brother.”
He blinked. “I am?”
Sofia nodded. “Mommy said we found you.”
She placed her drawing on the table. “I made a house. There's room for you.”
Gabriel touched the paper. For the first time, he smiled.
But when the visit ended, a nurse told Mateo that someone had called the residence claiming to be Gabriel's legal guardian. The caller had demanded his immediate transfer.
May you like
The voice on the recording was unmistakable.
Beatriz Moretti.
