The boardroom became silent enough to hear the air-conditioning.
Esteban looked at me.
“What missing pages?”
I didn't answer immediately.
Instead, I placed the folder on the table.
“The staffing appendix.”
The chairman shifted in his seat.
“Dr. Cárdenas, where did you obtain that information?”
“I was told an appendix existed.”
“That doesn't answer my question.”
“No.”
I looked around the table.
“Because the question isn't where I heard about it.”
I opened the folder.
“The question is why the appendix was omitted.”
Esteban stepped forward.
“You're making an accusation.”
“I haven't made one yet.”
He stopped.
I turned toward the chairman.
“May I continue?”
He nodded.
I connected my laptop to the screen.
The first document appeared.
Santa Elena's actual cardiac revenue.
Then the projection from the acquisition proposal.
The numbers differed dramatically.
“This proposal says cardiothoracic surgery operates at a loss.”
I clicked.
“It doesn't.”
Another slide.
“This proposal claims emergency cardiac cases have increased costs by forty-two percent.”
I clicked again.
“They haven't.”
Another.
“It claims our charity-care program is financially unsustainable.”
I looked at the board.
“That statement is technically true only because the proposal assigns costs to our department that belong to three other services.”
A board member frowned.
“Can you prove that?”
“Yes.”
I displayed the hospital's internal accounting.
Several people leaned forward.
Esteban crossed his arms.
“This is a matter of accounting methodology.”
“No.”
I looked at him.
“It's a matter of moving numbers from one column to another until the result tells the story you want.”
A murmur passed through the room.
The chairman raised his hand.
“Let's keep this professional.”
“I am.”
I clicked to the next page.
“This is the missing staffing appendix.”
The room froze.
I hadn't had the original appendix.
I had reconstructed the information from three separate documents Beatriz had given me and two internal reports from the hospital.
It wasn't complete.
But it was enough.
The list showed twenty-three positions marked for elimination.
Most were nurses.
Several were perfusionists.
Two were experienced surgical coordinators.
The people who kept the cardiac program functioning.
I looked at Esteban.
“Your plan removes the people who make the program profitable.”
He shook his head.
“Those positions can be outsourced.”
“To whom?”
“A specialized provider.”
“Which one?”
He hesitated.
I waited.
“Which provider?”
He finally named a company.
I looked at the chairman.
“That's a subsidiary of the medical group buying the hospital.”
The room erupted.
Voices overlapped.
The chairman called for silence.
Esteban's face had hardened.
“You're implying a conflict of interest.”
“I'm not implying anything.”
I displayed the corporate structure.
“The ownership records are public.”
A board member leaned toward the screen.
“This company is owned by them.”
“Yes.”
Another board member looked at Esteban.
“Did you disclose that?”
Esteban didn't answer.
The chairman asked again.
“Did you disclose that relationship?”
Esteban's jaw tightened.
“I assumed it was understood.”
“No,” the chairman said.
“It wasn't.”
I closed the presentation.
But I wasn't finished.
There was one question I had been saving.
“Who authorized the acquisition projections?”
The room went quiet.
Esteban answered.
“I did.”
“Alone?”
“No.”
“Who else?”
He looked toward the financial administrator.
Then toward the chairman.
Nobody spoke.
I turned to the chairman.
“Do you know?”
He rubbed his forehead.
“I approved the initial review.”
“Based on what?”
“The information provided by the consultants.”
“Which consultants?”
“Dr. Morales and his team.”
I nodded.
“So the person who benefits from the acquisition created the financial case for the acquisition.”
Esteban stepped forward.
“That's an unfair characterization.”
“No.”
I looked directly at him.
“It's an incomplete characterization.”
Then I placed another document on the table.
“This is the valuation report commissioned six months ago.”
The chairman stared at it.
“Where did you get that?”
“From the hospital archives.”
He picked it up.
His face changed.
“What is this?”
“An independent valuation.”
He read silently.
The number at the bottom was far higher than the offer on the table.
A board member took the report from him.
“This valuation is almost twice the acquisition price.”
“Yes.”
The room became louder.
People began talking at once.
The chairman stood.
“Everyone stop.”
Silence returned.
He looked at Esteban.
“Why wasn't this included?”
Esteban shook his head.
“I wasn't aware of it.”
“Your firm was.”
“I can't speak for them.”
The chairman turned to the financial administrator.
“Were you aware?”
She looked terrified.
“I knew there had been an earlier valuation.”
“And?”
“I was told it was outdated.”
“By whom?”
She looked toward Esteban.
No one spoke.
Then the door opened.
Alejandro walked in.
He had arrived directly from the airport.
He looked at me.
I could see the question in his eyes.
Are you okay?
I nodded.
He took a seat at the back.
The chairman looked irritated.
“This is a closed board meeting.”
Alejandro stood.
“I know.”
“Then why are you here?”
“Because my name is on the acquisition documents.”
The room went quiet again.
He walked toward the table.
“I want to make something clear.”
He looked at the chairman.
“I never agreed to finance the acquisition.”
Then he looked at Esteban.
“I was approached six months ago about consulting on a healthcare investment.”
Esteban interrupted.
“That is exactly what we're discussing.”
“No.”
Alejandro's voice was calm.
“You told me you were considering investing in a new hospital network.”
Esteban stared at him.
“You never told me the target was Santa Elena.”
“I wasn't required to disclose every potential target.”
“You were when you used my name in your materials.”
Esteban's expression changed.
I looked at Alejandro.
He hadn't known.
That much was clear.
He turned toward me.
“I should have told you about the meeting.”
“Yes.”
“I didn't know what it was connected to.”
“I believe you.”
He nodded.
Then he looked at the board.
“But I have one question.”
The chairman gestured for him to continue.
“Why does my name appear in an internal financing document dated before I ever agreed to anything?”
Nobody answered.
Alejandro placed a copy on the table.
“The signature isn't mine.”
The room became silent.
The chairman picked it up.
He looked closely.
“That's your name.”
“Yes.”
“But not your signature.”
“No.”
Esteban took a step backward.
The first real crack in his confidence appeared.
I watched him carefully.
This was no longer just an acquisition dispute.
Someone had forged Alejandro's name.
Someone had used it to make the transaction appear more secure.
And someone had assumed no one would look closely enough to notice.
The chairman called for a suspension of the meeting.
Esteban protested.
“We can't stop now.”
“Yes, we can.”
The chairman's voice was firm.
“We have a potential conflict of interest and a document with an apparently unauthorized signature.”
Esteban looked at me.
“This is because of you.”
I stood.
“No.”
I picked up the folder.
“This is because you underestimated everyone in this room.”
He stared at me.
Then he left.
Alejandro came toward me.
“You okay?”
“Yes.”
“You sure?”
I looked at him.
“I am now.”
We left the boardroom together.
In the corridor, neither of us spoke for several seconds.
Then Alejandro said, “I owe you an apology.”
“You do.”
“I should have told you about that investment meeting.”
“Yes.”
“I wasn't hiding anything.”
“I know.”
“But I should have trusted you with the information.”
“Yes.”
He nodded.
“I won't make that mistake again.”
I reached for his hand.
“Good.”
My phone vibrated.
Beatriz.
I answered.
“Hello?”
“Are you with Alejandro?”
“Yes.”
“I need both of you to come to the house.”
“Why?”
“I found something.”
“What?”
She hesitated.
“Your father-in-law's old files.”
My expression changed.
“Why would those matter?”
“I don't know.”
She took a breath.
“But there is a letter here from six months ago.”
“From whom?”
“Esteban Morales.”
I looked at Alejandro.
“What does it say?”
“I haven't read the whole thing.”
“Why not?”
“Because it was addressed to Roberto.”
Alejandro's face tightened.
“Open it.”
“I did.”
“And?”
Her voice became quieter.
“It mentions a plan to remove Mariana from Santa Elena.”
I felt the corridor tilt beneath me.
“What?”
Beatriz continued.
“It says you were the only obstacle.”
Alejandro took the phone from my hand.
“Mom, what else?”
There was a pause.
Then Beatriz said something that made both of us go still.
“It says they knew about the engagement before the brunch.”
Alejandro looked at me.
I looked back.
For weeks, I had believed Beatriz's cruelty began because she had misunderstood me.
Now another possibility appeared.
Maybe someone had wanted her to misunderstand me.
Maybe the cookbook had never been only an insult.
Maybe someone had been watching long before that brunch.
And if Esteban had known about our engagement before we announced it, then the question was no longer why he wanted to buy Santa Elena.
The question was why he had wanted me gone before he ever made the offer.
Click here to continue reading: PART 9: The Letter Was Older Than Our Engagement, and Its Final Paragraph Explained Why Someone Wanted Me Out of Santa Elena
The Gift Was Meant to Humiliate Me, but the Phone Call That Followed Changed What Everyone at the Table Thought They Knew
Part 8 of 20
