Their attorney, Elisa Moreno, met them downstairs.
Teresa was waiting in a small conference room with a thick folder and another man named Daniel Ortega, an independent fire-origin specialist hired after Atlas found inconsistencies in Rodrigo’s claim.
Daniel spread photographs across the table.
Mariana recognized the blackened hallway immediately.
Her stomach turned.
“You don’t have to look at these,” Jorge said.
“Yes, I do.”
Daniel pointed to the first image.
“The original report attributed the fire to an electrical fault near the rear wall.”
“That’s what they told me in the hospital.”
“And at first glance, it made sense. The panel was badly damaged.”
He placed another photograph beside it.
“But the deeper examination showed the electrical damage occurred after the room was already burning.”
Mariana swallowed.
Daniel moved his finger to two circles marked on a floor plan.
“One ignition point was inside the home office.”
The room Rodrigo used for company paperwork.
“The second was near the storage closet off the hallway.”
“Two?”
“Yes.”
“Could the fire have jumped?”
“Not in the pattern we found.”
Mariana already knew what his answer would be.
“They were separate.”
Daniel nodded.
Someone had wanted that house to burn.
Teresa opened another file.
“And this is where the insurance claim becomes important.”
She showed Mariana photographs Rodrigo had submitted after the fire.
A professional cinema camera.
Two high-end lenses.
Three lighting units.
Several laptops.
Audio equipment.
All supposedly destroyed.
Mariana stared at the serial numbers.
Then she pointed at one.
“That camera wasn’t there.”
“You’re certain?”
“I’m certain.”
Another.
“Neither was that lens.”
“How can you be sure?”
“Because two days before the fire, Rodrigo asked me to help him carry boxes from the studio into a rented van. He said the building was getting fumigated.”
Teresa and Daniel exchanged a look.
“Did you see where the van went?”
“No. I left for a campaign fitting.”
Teresa slid a photograph across the table.
“Does this man look familiar?”
The image had been taken from a security camera across the street from the burned house.
Mariana leaned closer.
The footage was grainy, but she knew the broad shoulders and shaved head.
“Tomás Rocha.”
“Who is he?”
“Rodrigo’s business partner.”
The timestamp read 1:07 a.m.
The fire had been reported shortly after two.
Tomás was carrying something from the rear of a dark SUV toward the side entrance of the property.
“What is that?” Mariana whispered.
Daniel answered.
“A plastic container.”
Jorge cursed under his breath.
Mariana kept looking.
“Rodrigo told the police Tomás hadn’t been there for weeks.”
“We know,” Teresa said.
Mariana turned toward her.
“So Rodrigo started the fire?”
“We don’t know who physically ignited it,” Elisa interrupted. “And we’re not going to guess.”
Mariana looked at her attorney.
Elisa’s voice remained calm.
“But there is enough here to explain why investigators are asking questions.”
Teresa nodded.
“And enough to explain why your husband has been avoiding me.”
Mariana sat back.
One thought kept clawing through everything else.
“Rodrigo was inside.”
Daniel nodded.
“In the guest bedroom.”
“He almost died.”
“Yes.”
“Then why would he arrange to burn the house?”
No one answered immediately.
It was Teresa who finally pushed a third folder toward her.
“Because according to statements from two Prisma Norte employees, Rodrigo was not supposed to come home that night.”
Mariana felt a chill crawl over her skin.
“What?”
