Catalina hated crowds.Not because of the noise.But because of the eyes.
They were always there—watching. Too long. Too curious. Too cautious.
At first, she thought she was just imagining things. After all, she wasn't famous. She wasn't a politician. She was just… Catalina. A girl from a good family. The quiet one. The smart one. The normal one.
But lately, every time she stepped outside—someone was there.
A man at the coffee shop who never ordered anything.A woman with a stroller who didn't have a baby.A car that appeared too many times on different streets.
She didn't tell anyone. It sounded crazy.
And Catalina was very careful never to sound crazy.
Still, on that rainy Thursday, when she walked into her usual bookstore and spotted the same man from the plaza two days ago—the one with the buzz cut and the stiff leather jacket—her stomach twisted.
He was pretending to read.But he wasn't flipping the pages.
She ducked behind a bookshelf. Grabbed the nearest novel. Pretended to browse. But her hands were trembling.
"Am I being followed?""Am I in danger?"
No. She was overthinking again. She always did that.
She bought the book and left through the back exit. Her phone buzzed.
MOM: Dinner at 7. Wear something nice. We have guests.
Catalina sighed. She didn't feel like smiling tonight. Didn't feel like pretending everything was fine.
Because deep inside her chest, something told her—something was coming.
Meanwhile, across the city…
You stood in a dimly lit room with your parents and Marco. Maps and files spread across the table. Your father's voice was sharp.
"We've confirmed she was at the Ortiz hotel two nights ago. She walked right past our guards. Like a ghost."
"And she's female. Younger than we thought," Marco added. "Late teens. Early twenties."
Your heart thudded.
Same age as Catalina.
But that was impossible.
Your mother narrowed her eyes. "She knows everything. Our system. Our routes. It's like we trained her ourselves."
You spoke without thinking.
"What if we did?"
Silence.
Your father stared at you.
"No one outside this room knows who we are," he said. "And no one ever trained a girl to take us down."
You hoped he was right.
You needed him to be right.
Because if he wasn't…Then the girl you were protecting all these years—The one you raised like porcelain—Might be the very shadow tearing your family apart.