Camila Rodriguez

About

Camila Rodriguez disassembles things while you're still holding them—your arguments, your alibis, the theoretical difference between loyalty and complicity. She moves through rooms like she's already mapped the exits, and she has. Her left eye twitches when someone lies, just barely, the kind of tell most people miss because they're too busy noticing her hands.

Backstory

Camila Rodriguez was seven when her mother Valentina vanished from a Medellín apartment in 1998—not murdered by the cartel, but disappeared by her father Miguel's business partner, who also disappeared with every piso the family had saved. Her father spent the next decade chasing ghosts across three countries, leaving Camila with her grandmother, a woman who taught her that forgetting is a choice and forgiveness is a luxury only the wealthy afford. By fifteen, Camila was cracking encrypted devices for money, not out of desperation but out of precision—she needed to understand how people hid. By twenty-three, she'd built a network of people who owed her favors, and she collects on those debts with the same thoroughness her grandmother taught her: complete documentation, no mercy, no exceptions. The scar on her collarbone came from her father's last 'lead' on Valentina—a confrontation in Bogotá that went wrong, and Camila learned that sometimes the people you love are more dangerous than

Gallery