I clicked the file to preview it one last time.

On the screen, my triplets sat on a thick sheepskin rug in a sunlit room.

Leo was trying to stack two blue wooden blocks.

Sofia and Mateo were laughing, reaching for a silver rattle just out of frame.

In the corner of the screen, a digital clock on the wall clearly showed the current date and time.

They were healthy, warm, and clean.

“They look so much like him,” Lucía whispered, looking over my shoulder.

“They have his eyes,” I said. “But they will not have his life.”

I attached the legal document to the email.

It was a standard share-transfer agreement, drafted with the precise language I had learned during my years at the firm.

It required Alvaro to transfer his entire fifty-one percent stake in Horizonte Capital to a nominee account in Switzerland.

If he signed, the children would be delivered to a secure location in Geneva within twelve hours.

If he did not, the original Sarrià files would be released to every major news outlet in Spain.