"Five minutes late. That's new for him."
Both laugh, low and hollow.
Sergio arrives, breath fogging in the cold. He doesn't shake hands. He throws the dossier onto the hood.
Inside the presidential office: the chair is empty. A single dossier lies on the desk.
He opens the file. Photos. Bank ledgers. A name he thought he'd buried — Suárez — now circled in red.
Night. The La Moneda palace hallways are silent except for the tap of Sergio's shoes. He's no longer the awkward outsider — now he moves like a man who's learned the weight of every key on this ring.
(slow exhale of smoke) "Closed is relative, Sergio. Some doors only look shut."
"They say power doesn't change you. It just shows you who you really are."
