sports

Chapter 3 - The Search for Catherine

The armored SUV tore through the rainy streets of Mexico City, heading away from the glittering skyscrapers of the Reforma district toward the dark, forgotten alleyways of Northside.

Inside the back seat, Victor held Annie tightly. He had wrapped his expensive designer jacket around her shivering shoulders. He looked at her small, pale face, noticing the dark circles under her eyes. He felt a wave of profound self-loathing. How could he have been so blind? How could he have believed his mother’s poison over the love of the woman he had married?

“Brian,” Victor said, looking up at the rearview mirror. “Thank you. If you hadn't spoken up...”

“I should have done it three years ago, Mr. Williams,” Brian said, his eyes fixed on the road. “But Mrs. Maris threatened my family too. She said she would blacklist my son from ever getting an engineering job in this country. But seeing little Annie tonight... digging through the garbage... I couldn't live with myself for another second. I don’t care if I go to jail, as long as you find Mrs. Catherine.”

“You won’t go to jail, Brian. You’ll have a job with me for life, and your son will get the best position in my firm,” Victor promised. He turned to Annie. “Sweetheart, tell me about where you and Mom live.”

“It’s a very small room, Daddy,” Annie said softly, her voice tired. “It’s cold. Sometimes the water doesn’t work, and the landlord is very mean. He yells at Mom when we are late on rent. Mom works two jobs. She cleans offices in the morning and washes dishes at a restaurant at night. But she got sick last week. She has a bad cough and can’t get out of bed. That’s why I went to the hotel... I saw the big lights and heard the music, and I saw the trucks bringing food. I just wanted to get something for her to eat.”

Every word from his daughter’s mouth was a blow to Victor’s soul. While he was flying first-class, dining with investors, and living in a smart-home mansion, his wife was working herself to the bone, dying of illness in a slum, and his daughter was scavenging.

“We’re almost there,” Brian announced, turning the heavy SUV down a narrow, unpaved street lined with crumbling concrete buildings.

The rain was pouring heavily now, turning the dirt road into thick mud. Brian parked in front of a dilapidated, three-story tenement building with peeling paint and flickering, exposed lightbulbs.

Victor didn't wait for Brian to open the door. He grabbed Annie, shielding her from the rain with his body, and rushed inside the dark, damp hallway. The smell of mold and cheap cooking oil hung heavy in the air.

“Which room, Annie?” Victor asked, his heart hammering against his ribs.

“Third floor, at the very end. Room 304,” she whispered.

Victor ran up the creaking concrete stairs, his expensive leather shoes slipping slightly. When he reached the third floor, he walked down the dimly lit hallway until he saw a battered wooden door with the faded numbers 304 painted on it.

He knocked gently. There was no answer. He knocked again, harder this time, his anxiety rising.

“Catherine? Catherine, please open the door!” he called out.

A weak, raspy voice came from inside. “Annie? Is that you, baby? The door is unlocked... I’m sorry, I couldn't get up...”

Victor pushed the door open. The room was tiny, barely larger than his walk-in closet at home. It contained a single gas stove, a tiny table with one chair, and a sagging mattress in the corner.

Lying on the mattress, wrapped in a threadbare blanket, was Catherine.

Victor gasped. She was shockingly thin. Her once-radiant, sun-kissed skin was pale and translucent, and her beautiful brown hair was dull. But as she opened her eyes and saw him standing there, the breath caught in her throat.

“Victor...?” she whispered, thinking she was hallucinating from her fever. “No... it can’t be. Am I dreaming?”

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Victor fell to his knees beside the mattress. He reached out, his hand trembling as he touched her cheek. It was burning hot.

“It’s not a dream, Catherine,” Victor choked out, tears streaming down his face. “I’m here. I’m so sorry. I’m so, so sorry...”

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