Monday, 8:15 a.m.

The Del Valle & Associates building was even more imposing in broad daylight. The glass reflected the sun as if it were a structure made of hardened light. Every step I took inside was a reminder of my new life: this time, I was playing on a different board.

I had been assigned to Room B, in the south wing, a space shared with three other architects. The youngest, Pablo, couldn't have been more than twenty-four. Eva—not my friend, another Eva—was a woman in her fifties with gray hair tied back in a neat bun and a bright gaze. And finally, Daniel: arrogant, confident, one of those who believe that women are meant to be housewives and raise children.

"First time doing something serious?" he asked me without looking up from his monitor.

"First time working with adults, yes," I replied, without smiling.

Pablo choked on his coffee. Eva gave me a quick, approving look.

Román Del Valle didn't show up until eleven. He entered like a powerful shadow, reviewing plans, pointing out mistakes. He passed by my station without stopping, but his green eyes fixed on the plans I was studying. He said nothing. It wasn't necessary. His silence weighed more than any comment.

Before leaving, he stopped in front of Eva.

"Put her to the test," he said, nodding slightly toward me.

Eva nodded without hesitation.

"This week I want three proposals for tower six. Ground floor, community focus. I don't want another empty lobby. Surprise me," she added, and disappeared down the hallway as if the air parted in her wake.

***

At lunchtime, I decided to stay at my desk. I had brought a tuna, tomato, lettuce, and mayonnaise sandwich wrapped in plastic wrap and a thermos of tea. While the others left, I took the opportunity to study the complete plans for Project Aurea.

"In my other life, this wasn't even news," I thought.

I vaguely remembered that Del Valle had been linked to a real estate development on the coast, but the Arriagas had campaigned to boycott it. They used political influence, the media, and even anonymous complaints to stop the project. Now I knew why: this project was monumental. It could redefine the country's housing standards.

And I was going to protect it.

I was so absorbed that I didn't hear the footsteps until I felt a presence behind me.

"Not many new employees stay to work during lunch," said a deep voice.

Roman.

I turned slowly, maintaining my composure.

"Big projects don't wait, right?"

He tilted his head slightly.

"Do you know what my wife was looking for in each design?" he asked.

"No."

"A curved line. She believed that every structure needs a natural imperfection. If everything is angles and straight lines, the eye gets tired. The soul fades. That was my wife's opinion."

"And you? Do you agree?"

"I believe that the soul has no place in blueprints. But... I've learned to compromise on some things."

He held my gaze for a few more seconds. Then he turned on his heel and walked away, but before disappearing, he said, "Engineer, I recommend you wipe your mouth. It's covered in mayonnaise."

I blushed and couldn't help but smile.

***

That night, I reviewed my agenda. I still remembered several details from the past that could give me an advantage:

On May 24, the Arriagas would present an illegal megaproject in a nature reserve. If I could leak those plans before they covered it up, I would stop it.

In July, Benjamin's younger brother would be arrested for money laundering. This time, maybe I could speed up that process.

My mind wanders at the moment of my death. I had felt the vehicle skidding intentionally, as if someone had planned for that trip to be a one-way journey.

Lucas.

I touched my empty belly.

Not a day went by that I didn't think about him.

This time, I would live for both of us.

***

On Friday, at 5:47 p.m., I submitted my three proposals.

One incorporated elements of a vertical garden, another worked with natural light using slanted glass, and the third... was a concept inspired by the shape of a snail's spiral: a continuous curve representing movement and community.

Eva looked at me silently for several minutes. Finally, she put the plans down on her desk and said,

"Good. I didn't think you would stand out, but... you're different, I love your proposal, and it will definitely be useful to us."

"Thank you."

"But be careful not to let it go to your head. You're just starting your career, and you don't want to hit a giant bump in the road."

She didn't say it as a threat; I felt it was wise and sincere advice.

***

The following Monday, we were called to a general meeting in the presentation room. The entire Aurea Project team, about thirty engineers, architects, and assistants, occupied the front row. Roman appeared accompanied by two people.

One was the construction manager.

The other...

My blood ran cold.

Benjamin Arriaga.

No. No, no, no. Not so soon.

He was wearing a navy blue suit, his hair shorter than I remembered, but the smile was the same: confident, charming, manipulative.

"Good morning. My name is Benjamin Arriaga. I am here as a representative of TierraNova Consulting, a company that collaborates in environmental impact assessments. We will be working closely with the technical teams."

Román nodded with a frown, as the board of directors had imposed him.

Seeing that jerk almost gave me a panic attack; I couldn't breathe.

Benjamin was here. With me. Just a few feet away.

My body wanted to scream, run, vomit. But I forced myself to stay seated. I became aware of my breathing, trying to calm my mind. I needed to be ice cold.

"Does anyone have any questions?" said Roman.

Benjamin took advantage of the opportunity.

"Maybe we could start with a round of introductions. I'd like to meet the people who will be carrying out this magnificent project."

One by one, we introduced ourselves. When it was my turn, I stood up.

"Isabella Ferrer. Architect and engineer. Responsible for tower six."

Benjamin blinked. He hadn't seen me before, and now his eyes widened with surprise and then with contained fury. Of course he recognized me. Apparently, he had been looking for me for weeks. Since I cut off all contact, changed my number and address, and disappeared without explanation. Without saying goodbye.

"Isabella..." he murmured incredulously. "You work here?"

"It seems so," I replied with a neutral expression.

I sat down without adding anything else.

His gaze burned into me. Not with desire. With confusion, with wounded pride.

Perfect.

Let him be unsettled and pissed off, the woman in front of him was no longer crawling after him.

I was back. And this time, he wouldn't know what hit him.