Chapter 89

**Belladona**
"Julián Santorini, the family that fell into disgrace—I think... I think you need to see this for yourself." I took the paper he handed me, and as I read it, I clenched my fists. I noticed he hid another piece of paper in his jacket and said:
"What are you hiding there?"
"You don’t need to know. I gave you the information you asked for."
"It’s about me..."
"I don’t think this is the smartest thing for you to deal with right now," he said, glancing at my disheveled and pitiful state. I stood up angrily, took quick steps toward him, and snatched the folded paper he tried to hide.
"Who do you think you are to decide that for me, you wretched scoundrel?"
"Have you looked at yourself in a mirror? The staff says you haven’t left the house in days. This won’t be good for you." I glanced at the mirror—my mascara was smudged, my hair was a mess, and I could only think that this was all César’s fault and that wretched bastard’s.
"Shut up! Don’t act like you know me." I unfolded the paper and read it. My face drained of color, and I dropped the paper to the floor, my legs trembling, on the verge of collapsing.
"Miss Belladona, are you alright?" the investigator asked, steadying me.
"This can’t be true… tell me this isn’t true."
"I told you it wasn’t the right time, Miss Belladona."
"I can’t be the daughter of a ruined family… I’m a Zambrano. This has to be a mistake!"
"What does it matter who you’re the daughter of? What’s important is the lie you choose to live. Your entire family has fallen into disgrace; there’s no one left alive."
"No… I’ve been following you, and I know you have a relative hospitalized."
"I’ll investigate it myself if that’s what you want," I said, pulling away from his support, realizing we had stood like that for too long.
"No, I’ll do it myself."
"But you’re not well enough yet," he said. I shoved him angrily and replied:
"What do you know about me? Stop telling me how I am! Get out of here—I’ll call you when you’re useful to me!" I snapped, and with a stern expression, he left my room. Trembling, I fixed myself up despite the pain in my chest. If I wasn’t a Zambrano, then what was I? My entire life was a lie, and it was all because of that scavenger. If her existence hadn’t crawled out of that filthy dump, my life wouldn’t be put to the test. I could only come out as the winner… As I emerged from my thoughts, I noticed strands of my hair on the brush. I had combed so hard I’d pulled out my own hair. In a fit of rage, I hurled the brush, shattering the mirror reflecting my face.
"I must end that wretched clone… and my life will return to how it was before."

**Belle**
When Mr. César left, I waited until dawn to visit Mr. Santorini at the hospital early in the morning. I had to get used to calling him that instead of Grandpa, at least until some part of his memory returned. Yet… little by little, I was starting to believe that might never happen because… what reason would he have to remember such trivial memories? Not even I was worth remembering. Still, I held onto the hope that the sweet grandfather I knew would come back to me.
"He’s been much calmer these days, but the news about his family has left him very sad. He’s not eating and doesn’t want to see anyone. He used to paint, but now he just sits by the window until nightfall."
"But… what can be done to cheer him up? My grandpa is going to die!" I said desperately, almost crying.
"I don’t know. Maybe if you talked to him—" I nodded and entered the room, where I saw him sitting by the window.
"Mr. Santorini, it’s time to eat." He looked up for a second and then returned his gaze to the window.
"Leave. I don’t want anything to eat." I stepped closer and said:
"But you haven’t eaten in two days, sir." I stood by his side, ignoring his request. Suddenly, he stood up and slapped the tray out of my hands, sending the food flying.
"I said I don’t want anything!" he shouted at me as he’d never done before, not even when he was drunk.
"Alright…" I crouched to the floor, picking up the food.
"What are you doing down there? Leave that and get out quickly."
"My grandpa always told me that food is never refused or wasted." He stared at me in silence.
"And what does that have to do with me? Leave so I can die in peace already."
"No! I don’t want to lose my grandpa. You’re not him… so… so please give him back to me and leave," I said through tears, glaring at him angrily.
"Your grandpa…" He held his head tightly, looking at me in pain.
"Are you alright?"
"Who are you? Your voice… since you came in, it reminds me of someone, but—" I quickly stood up and helped him sit on the bed.
"I… I might not be someone important enough to remember, but you were someone important before you lost your memory. So, please… could you give me a chance to stay a little longer in this world?" The man looked at me silently and then said:
"I’ll wait for my dinner." I smiled joyfully, nodded, and left to bring another tray, but I bumped into someone.
"Excuse me, miss." When I looked up, I found myself face to face with Belladona. Without saying a word, she stepped aside and entered the room.
"What are you doing? You can’t just go in like that," I protested, hurrying after her as more nurses followed behind. Belladona stared at Mr. Santorini and said:
"Are you Mr. Romanov Santorini?"
"Yes, that’s me… Who are you?"
"I don’t need to know anything else." She put on her sunglasses and, as she walked out, said: "I need to talk to you, and believe me, it’s important. It’s about your family." She left the room, and my chest tightened. My family… What did she know now about my family? I left the tray behind and followed her without hesitation.