It had been two years since I was expelled from the forensic department. Two long, grueling years in exile. I'd moved away from the city, from everything I once knew, and had tried to start anew. But the weight of my past—of the case I had uncovered, the corruption I had exposed—never left me. It followed me, like a shadow in the back of my mind.
I had built a life in a quiet town, far from the chaos of the city. Amara, my wife, had grown used to our peaceful existence. She was my anchor, the one who kept me grounded when the ghosts of my past threatened to consume me. And our little girl, Israel, had just turned three. Her laughter filled the house with warmth, and I had cherished every moment with her.
But all of that changed in an instant.
The phone call came early in the morning. The sound of the old-fashioned ring broke the silence of our home, and my heart skipped a beat as I reached for the receiver.
"Santiago Del Valle," the voice on the other end was firm, unmistakable. Judge Vega. "We need you."
I paused. My body stiffened. It had been two years since I had heard from him. Two years of silence after my expulsion, and now, he was calling me back.
"You're the only one who can solve this case. We're facing something bigger than we anticipated," he continued, his voice betraying the urgency. "The corruption has spread further than we ever thought. You've proven yourself once before, Santiago. Now, we need you again."
I could feel the weight of his words pressing down on me. The case, the one that had cost me everything, was still haunting the city. And now they wanted me back.
"You're asking me to come back?" I asked, my voice trembling slightly despite my best efforts to remain calm. "After everything that happened? After what you did to me?"
There was a long pause on the other end of the line. "We know what happened. And we know you were right. We need you back, Santiago. You're the only one who can untangle this mess."
The truth was, I had always known deep down that this moment would come. The system had a way of coming full circle. And now, here I was—asked to return, to put my life back on the line, to face the very people who had cast me aside. But there was something in me that couldn't walk away. The city needed me, and this was my calling.
Yet, despite the weight of that responsibility, the decision wasn't easy. I looked across the room at Amara, who had just walked in, her eyes tired but warm.
"Who was that?" she asked, noticing the shift in my expression.
I could feel the tightness in my chest as I prepared to tell her. "It was Judge Vega," I said quietly. "They want me back. There's a case... the corruption is deeper than we thought. They need me to come back."
Amara's face shifted, concern etched across her features. "Santiago, we've been happy here. You've been happy. Do you really want to go back to all of that?"
I could see the fear in her eyes. She knew what it meant for me to return to that world. She had seen the toll it took on me before—how it consumed me, how it threatened to break us apart.
"I don't know, Amara. But I can't walk away from this. Not now. Not when I know what's at stake," I said, my voice thick with emotion.
She sighed, walking over to where I stood, her hand resting gently on my chest. "I know you feel like you have to do this. But Santiago, we've built a life here. You're not just fighting for justice anymore—you're fighting for us. For Israel." Her voice broke slightly as she spoke our daughter's name.
I closed my eyes, feeling the weight of her words. I had promised Amara that I would be there for her and Israel, that I wouldn't let the darkness of my past pull me away from them. But this was bigger than me, bigger than all of us. I knew what I had to do, but that didn't make it any easier.
I looked down at the photo of Israel on the table. She was smiling, her little hands clutched around a toy, her eyes bright and full of innocence. It broke my heart to think that I might miss her milestones, that I might not be there for her as she grew.
But I had no choice. The city needed me. And no one else could solve this case. I had walked away from everything before, but this time, it was different. The stakes were too high.
"I'll go back," I said finally, my voice barely above a whisper. "But I'll make sure this doesn't tear us apart. I'll come back to you. I promise."
Amara didn't say anything at first. She simply nodded, her eyes searching mine, trying to read my soul. Then, after a long moment, she spoke softly. "I know you will. But just remember, Santiago... we're your home now. Don't forget that."
I pulled her close, feeling the warmth of her embrace, knowing that I would carry that warmth with me wherever I went. I kissed the top of her head and whispered against her hair, "I'll fight for all of us. For you, and for Israel."
The next day, I packed my things and said goodbye to the life I had tried to build. I kissed Israel on the forehead as she slept, promising myself that I would return. No matter what.
And as I walked back into the world of forensic science, back into the chaos I had tried to escape, I knew one thing for certain—the battle was far from over. But this time, I wasn't just fighting for justice. I was fighting for my family, for the life I almost lost.