Diego stood frozen.
The laughter of his friends behind him suddenly turned into a distorted, fading sound, as if someone had pressed the power button to shut the world. Before him, the girl remained still. Calm. Her eyes held no anger—only the cold certainty of someone holding a truth powerful enough to destroy.
“H…how did you know?” Diego stammered. His voice was hoarse and trembling. All his familiar arrogance had vanished, revealing a frightened child behind it.
She bent down, picking up the file folder from the floor. When she straightened up, her gaze remained fixed on him.
“My last name is Montenegro.”
Just four words. But they struck Diego straight in the chest.
Montenegro.
The last name of the man who had just bought the factory where his father had worked for twenty years. The same man who had fired him three months ago—for embezzling funds.
A secret Diego’s family had kept hidden at all costs. They told the neighbors he was “working overseas.” That it was a special mission. That false sense of honor was the only thing they clung to.
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