Richard was a man who had everything, but he had lost what was most important. A year ago, Helena disappeared without a trace—no farewell letter, no message. His enormous mansion had seemed cold and empty ever since. Every day, he walked the streets with posters, hoping someone would recognize her face. Despite the doubts of others, he didn’t give up. His love for Helena was the only anchor that kept him standing.
On that fateful day, his path led him to a forgotten part of the city. As he finished pasting another poster on a wall, little Sophie approached. She looked closely at the picture and smiled. “Yes,” she repeated, “she lives with me and my daddy. She’s lovely. I call her Mommy.”
These words hit Richard like a blow. Helena had no children. Confused and with trembling hands, he knelt before the girl. Sophie explained that her father had found the woman injured and disoriented on a rainy day. Since she couldn’t remember anything, they simply called her “Lena.”
Sophie led Richard through narrow alleyways to a simple, old house. Along the way, she described how “Lena” often gazed into the distance, lost in thought, as if trying to piece together a broken puzzle in her mind. Richard described to Sophie a blue dress with white flowers—Helena’s favorite, which she wore on the day of her disappearance. Sophie’s eyes widened: “She keeps that dress in a trunk. She never wears it, but she stares at it for long periods.”
Upon arriving at the house, Richard knocked on the door, his heart pounding. A serious-looking man named Hector opened it. Richard didn’t identify himself as a billionaire, but before he could say much, Sophie shouted from inside: “Mommy, come here!” Hector reacted immediately, pushing Sophie roughly aside and blocking Richard’s view. “No one by that name lives here,” he said coldly, slamming the door shut.
Richard froze. But then he saw movement at the upstairs window. Behind the curtain, a face appeared. It was Helena. Her gaze was calm, but empty. She looked at him as if he were a stranger, before slowly walking away. Richard now knew: she was alive, but she had forgotten him.
Meanwhile, Sophie’s distrust of her father grew. Hector was acting strangely nervous. When he left the house, Sophie sneaked into his room and found a notebook hidden behind a false shelf. Inside were names, photos, and large sums of money. Next to a photo of Helena, it was written “Helena V.” and a value crossed out.
Sophie ran to Helena and showed her the discovery. “That’s me,” Helena whispered. At that moment, a barrier shattered in her memory. She saw flashes of a glorious past: marble staircases, expensive perfume, a black car, and a voice calling her name. “He kidnapped me,” she realized with horror. Hector hadn’t saved her; he had stolen her to demand a ransom, but then decided to keep her as part of his new, false life.
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