The rain continued to pour down on Manila.
From the backseat of the car, Bella Isabel Chávez Reyes watched the city through the blurry window.
The lights had changed and become blurry reflections, as if everything around her was no longer entirely real.
Or maybe she who no longer belonged anywhere now had a different name.
Jessica Jones Vilma.
A false name for a false life… necessary to stay alive.
Black headphones covered her ears, even though she wasn’t listening to music.
She was just trying to silence the noise in her mind.
Lisbon.
The masquerade ball.
Loki.
Everything was still there, like a wound that refused to heal.
—I don’t want you to get involved with the Vargas family— Josefina Chávez said, without taking her eyes off the road.
Bella didn’t answer right away.
—Mom…
—It’s dangerous, Bella.
Loki died because he discovered something.
And you… you’re following the same path.
Bella lowered her gaze.
—but she left a clue.
— The silence inside the car grew heavier.
Josefina didn’t answer.
She couldn’t help it.
There were so many buried truths, and one of them was the most dangerous of all: Christian «Cris» Reyes was Bella’s biological father.
And she didn’t know it yet.
The car stopped in front of a modern house in Manila.
Two people were waiting for her there: Linda Villanova, her godmother, and Jeremiah Jones, a criminal detective and criminology specialist.
As she stepped inside, Bella immediately felt the weight of the place.
Folders, photos, and open case files were piled on the table.
The Loki Vargas case was alive within those walls.
Jeremiah watched her for a few seconds before speaking.
—So you’re the woman who wants to solve an international murder.
—Bella stared at him expressionlessly.
—I don’t want to be a detective.
— A faint smile spread across the man’s face.
—That’s what everyone who comes across one says.— On the table, photos from the Masquerade Ball were scattered.
Loki Vargas.
Louise Vargas.
Ressell Vargas Monteverde.
And a shadowy figure wearing a red mask.
Christian Reyes was reviewing documents in the back of the room.
—The murderer is still at large—he said firmly.
—And we believe someone is helping him inside the school.— Bella felt a pang of dread.
Jeremiah closed a folder in front of her.
—Tomorrow you start at De La Salle-College of Saint Benilde.
—Under that name?— Bella asked.
—No.
Under another.—Silence.
«Jessica Jones Vilma.»