As the months went by, that girl gradually faded into the past. Larissa was transforming into a different woman—somewhat mature, yet she had developed manipulating ways. There wasn't a man Larissa couldn't bend to her will; perhaps her new job was the reason for her behavior, but at the same time, she never allowed a man to lay a finger on her. The memory of that night prevented her from even being alone with a man, terrified at the thought of reliving that ordeal.
The night was ending at the club, and as with every shift, it was time for her to get paid for her show, which had quickly become the most popular of the evening. Many men came just to see her dance and sing, captivated by her voice and talent.
Then it was her turn to go to Santiago's office for her earnings. Upon entering the room, she noticed Santiago standing near the door—an odd sight for Larissa, but she continued walking.
"Sit down, girl," Santiago said mockingly.
"Okay," Larissa replied as she sat down, holding the back of her dress to prevent it from rising.
She heard the sound of Santiago locking the door, which made her quickly turn to look at him.
"Why are you locking the door?" Larissa asked.
"You scared of me, girl?" Santiago inquired.
Rising from her seat, Larissa watched Santiago approach and place his hands on her face, then gently stroking her chin.
She began to feel nervous but remained silent; tears started to fill her eyes, and her lips quivered. Seeing her distressed, Santiago had a feeling he was doing something wrong.
"What's wrong? Why are you crying?" he asked.
"Please, open the door," Larissa implored.
"I just want to talk to you," Santiago insisted.
"But you can do that with the door unlocked, right? You can," Larissa said.
"No, Larissa, I just want to talk. I'm not going to hurt you. Why are you so upset? Please, sit down," Santiago said, gesturing to the sofa with his hands.
Larissa, trying to compose herself, sat down, drying her tears. Santiago brought her a glass of water, knowing she didn't drink alcohol. She took the water and waited for Santiago to begin.
"Who are you, Larissa?" he probed.
"Larissa!" she answered with a smile.
"Yes, I know you're 'Larissa,'" Santiago said, making quotation gestures with his fingers. "But I want to know who you are. How did you get here? Where are you from? You understand," he pressed.
"I don't have much to tell about my life," Larissa responded.
"And your full name? Your last name?" he questioned.
Larissa's eyes darted around, looking for something in her surroundings to give her a last name.
"Gomez, why do you ask?" Larissa answered.
"Why does it sound like a lie?” Santiago questioned back, with a suspicious look and his finger on his chin.
"Why would I lie to you?" Larissa asked nervously, taking her hands in each other.
"Why don't you visit anyone? Why don't you have family? Or why don't you have any identification?" Santiago continued, while Larissa raised her gaze "Yes! I’ve already checked your place, and there's nothing about you there... So now you're going to tell me who you are because you're in trouble," he threatened as he revealed a gun and showed it to Larissa.
"I haven’t done anything, Santiago. I swear I'm just working here," said an anxious Larissa, trying to defend herself.
"Who do you work for? Tell me now, Larissa, if that's even your name," Santiago demanded.
"I am Larissa, I swear. I don't work for anyone else but you," Larissa said, terrified.
"Do you want me to call Becky and ask?" Santiago threatened.
"No, no, please. I can tell you the truth, but Becky has nothing to do with it," Larissa confessed.
"I'm all ears," Santiago said as he moved a chair closer to her.
Under pressure, Larissa began her confession...
"Almost a year ago, Rebecca's father found me near the river's edge, nearly dead. I don't know who I am! I have this pendant that says Larissa, and I want to believe that is my name, but I'm not sure," she shared.
"And who wanted to kill you?" Santiago asked.
"I don't know," Larissa replied, wringing her hands.
"But you should know," he retorted.
"How would I? I only remember parts of what happened," Larissa explained.
"And what do you remember in part? Maybe I can help," Santiago said, feigning interest.
Larissa just looked away, tears beginning to stream down her face.
"I only remember a man abusing me," Larissa said, leaning forward and crying.
Seeing her this way, Santiago approached and lifted her face with his hand.
"Is that why you refuse everyone?" Santiago asked.
"I can't imagine being with a man. I'm scared, and I can't get that image out of my head," Larissa sobbed.
Santiago gave her a hug, which took Larissa by surprise; she never imagined a man like Santiago could share her pain.
"Do you know who your family is?" Santiago questioned.
"I don't know, all I know is that it was the police who wanted to kill me. They came looking for me the next day, and Rebecca's father rescued me," Larissa revealed.
Even though Santiago found her story unbelievable, he tried to accept it; his feelings for Larissa helped him understand, and something inside told him she wouldn’t lie.
"So that's how you met Rebecca?" Santiago asked.
Larissa nodded.
"Okay, that's fine. Do you really want to find out who you are?" Santiago inquired.
"Yes, that's what I want the most, but I'm scared. What if those men are still out there and they want to kill me?" Larissa expressed her fear.
"I would protect you, Larissa. I would never let anyone harm you," Santiago assured her.
"Santiago, you can't get in trouble for me," Larissa said.
"Let me handle this. I know what to do," Santiago replied, extending his hand to help her up and pointing towards the door. "You can go now. I’ll keep you posted on anything I find out."
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