He had never questioned María Teresa’s decision to continue waiting. During 2007, María Teresa began to experience what she would later describe as soul fatigue. The constant search, the hope held against all odds, and the strain of supporting a fractured family had begun to take their physical and emotional toll. Her savings had been completely depleted.

Her health was showing signs of deterioration. She had developed high blood pressure, suffered from chronic headaches, and had lost almost 15 kg over the past two years. The moment that would change everything came in the most unexpected way possible during the second week of September 2017, exactly 15 years after Ana’s disappearance.

It all began with a routine inspection by the municipal health department in the Santa María neighborhood. Several neighbors had complained about strange odors coming from different homes, drainage problems, and suspicions of unauthorized construction that might be violating urban regulations. The inspection had been scheduled to inspect 15 homes on Juárez Street, including Rogelio Fernández’s property.

María Teresa had learned about the inspection through Mrs. García, who had mentioned that the inspectors would arrive Tuesday morning. For reasons she couldn’t fully explain, María Teresa felt an inexplicable urge to accompany the inspectors when they inspected Rogelio’s house.

“I don’t know why, but I feel like I should be there,” she confided to her neighbor the night before. “Over all these years, Don Rogelio has been very good to me. I want to make sure he doesn’t get into trouble with the authorities.”

On Tuesday, September 12, 2017, at 10:00 a.m., María Teresa showed up at the municipal office to request permission to accompany the inspection as a representative of the neighborhood committee.

The chief inspector, Ramón Herrera, agreed when María Teresa explained her personal situation and her knowledge of the colony’s history. The inspection of Rogelio’s house was scheduled for 11:30. When María Teresa and the three inspectors arrived at the property, they found Rogelio clearly nervous but cooperative. He had prepared all the documents related to his home and seemed eager to complete the process quickly.

“Good morning, Mrs. María Teresa,” Rogelio greeted with a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. I didn’t know you were going to accompany the inspection.”

The inspection began routinely. The inspectors checked the electrical installations, inspected the drainage system, and examined the general condition of the building.

Everything seemed to be in perfect order until they reached the backyard, where Rogelio had built his makeshift workshop.

Inspector Herrera noticed that the dimensions of the workshop didn’t exactly match the original property plans and that there appeared to be an unauthorized extension. “Mr. Fernández, we need to inspect the back of the workshop,” the inspector reported.

“The plans we have don’t show this additional construction.”

Rogelio began to show obvious signs of nervousness. His hands trembled slightly as he searched his pockets for keys, and his breathing had visibly quickened.

“It’s just a storage room,” he explained in a voice that had lost its naturalness. “I keep tools there that I don’t use often. I don’t think it’s necessary to inspect it because it has no electrical or water connections.”

However, Inspector Herrera was meticulous in his work and insisted on checking every building. Rogelio tried to delay the inspection by arguing that he had lost the room key, but the inspectors decided to proceed by forcing the lock if necessary.

It was at that moment that María Teresa heard something that would forever change the course of her life.

While Rogelio argued with the inspectors about the need to check the back room, a sound that shouldn’t have been there came from inside the enclosed space.

The distinctive sound of someone moving, followed by what seemed to be a muffled cough. María Teresa felt like the world stopped around her.

For 15 years, she had developed an almost supernatural auditory sensitivity to any sound that could be linked to Ana. But this sound was different. It wasn’t the product of an imagination tortured by hope. The inspectors had heard it too.

“Is anyone in there?” Inspector Herrera asked Rogelio directly.

“No, no one,” Rogelio replied with a desperation he could no longer hide. “It must have been some animal that got in.”

But at that moment, another sound was heard that no animal could have produced. A human voice, weak and distorted, but unmistakably human, that seemed to be asking for help.

María Teresa approached the closed door of the room and, following an impulse that had been building for 15 years, shouted at the top of her lungs,

“Ana, Ana, are you there?”

The response that came from inside was confirmation of a miracle she had waited for for more than 5,000 days.

“Mom, Mom, it’s me.”

The next 30 minutes were a whirlwind of emotions, actions, and revelations that defied any rational understanding of what had been happening for 15 years in the Santa María neighborhood.

Inspector Herrera immediately requested police reinforcements by radio while his colleagues took charge of controlling Rogelio, who had entered a state of total panic.

María Teresa had begun desperately banging on the door of the closed room, shouting Ana’s name and promising to get her out of there immediately.

“Ana, my girl, I’m coming for you. I’m here, daughter,” María Teresa repeated, tears preventing her from seeing clearly.

15 years of pain, hope, and desperate searching were concentrated in those moments of absolute certainty that her daughter was alive and just a few feet away.

From inside the room came halting responses that confirmed Ana’s identity, but also revealed the devastating state she was in.

“Mom, I can’t come out. The door is locked. I’m very weak.” Ana’s voice had changed during 15 years of captivity.