The humor drained from Matthew’s face. His patience was thinning — classic Elaine, reverting to her anxious, paranoid ways.“Elaine, I invited you to come with me. You didn’t want to.”“I didn’t know that Patty the Harlot was going to be there too.”“Elaine!” Matthew sighed. “For your information, I’m hiding in my hotel room, waiting for the shoot to finish. They’re not even staying at the same hotel.”Elaine paused in her frantic pacing, finally feeling a little lightheaded. She stopped and sat, composing herself.“Okay... you’re calming me down a bit.”“Can you just trust me? Patricia’s with Ron.”“Oh?” she probed slyly. “How are they doing?”“They’re more in love than ever. I bet they screwed like rabbits all night.”“Ah, how sweet,” Elaine replied sarcastically. “At least that keeps her too busy to steal you.”“She doesn’t know I’m here.”“Well... thanks for being honest.”“Bye now,” Matthew said, ending the call with a half-smile and a shake of his head.When would Elaine finally

Vicente shuffled toward the front door, in the living room of the Gouveia apartment with visible reluctance. Unshaven, dressed in a tank top and wearing boxer shorts like they were regular clothes, he clearly wasn’t expecting company.A series of knocks broke the silence."Why don’t you use the doorbell like a civilized person?" he bellowed, his voice gruff and annoyed.But when Vicente opened the door, all irritation drained from his face. Standing there, quiet and unmoving, was Nathan — his expression unreadable and icy."Son!" Vicente gasped, completely taken aback. "Don’t waste time, come in, come in!"Nathan stepped inside without a word. He didn’t seem angry, but his silence was heavier than shouting as if he were crossing the threshold into a world he didn’t belong to anymore.Closing the door behind him, Vicente tried to summon a smile. "You have no idea how long I waited for this moment... Did you come to talk to your old man?""I came to straighten some things out," Nathan s

Vicente scratched the back of his neck, the weight of resignation settling on him.“Well, since we now know it was you, with the ‘best of intentions,’ I guess I’d better keep my mouth shut. Soon enough, the police will shelve the case due to lack of suspects.”Nathan’s tone was darker, heavy with implication. “I just hope the same police doesn’t use the opportunity to dig into what happened to Karl.”Vicente looked up, unaffected yet weary. “Even if that were the case, what could they do? It’s been over twenty years. They can’t arrest me. That said, I can’t say I came out unscathed — or victorious.”Nathan hesitated, and then spoke with a quiet resolve. “Alright then... Dad, I only came here to say this. It looks like we’re going our separate ways from now on.”Vicente’s expression softened. “My son, once again, I ask your forgiveness... are you still—?”“I’m at Karl’s old apartment,” Nathan interrupted coldly. “But you’re going to have to disappear from this city.”“I know, I know...

Matthew had been staring too long. Watching Patricia laugh and sway alongside Ronaldo felt like a knife twisted slowly, rhythmically, in his chest. He told himself he had to stop — he didn’t want anyone to think he still pined for her. Especially not her.Still... why did it sting so much to see her enjoying herself with another man?Needing a distraction, Matthew made his way to the buffet table. There, he found a bottle of Chilean wine and, without ceremony, opened it himself and poured a generous glass. A waiter approached, visibly startled.“Sir, I should be the one serving you!” the waiter exclaimed.“Don’t worry,” Matthew said casually. “Keep up the good work.”The waiter, relieved, offered a quick nod and walked away, taking the wine bottle with him.Matthew sipped his wine, his eyes roaming the room. The party pulsed around him — couples dancing closely, friends laughing over cocktails, the models from the earlier shoot now pairing off with single guests. Some couples slipped

The next morning, the sky above Praia Grande stretched wide and blue, with only a few scattered clouds drifting lazily.In the coastline, waves kissed the sand in gentle, rhythmic sighs. At first glance, the beach appeared empty — peaceful, even desolate — but a closer look at the wild vegetation told another story.Amid the natural growth of clusia bushes and beach grass, something stirred. The trembling of the shrubs, spread across several spots, might have been mistaken for a strong breeze — except there was no wind. Something, or someone, was moving within them.There was one particularly restless cluster, which shook with near-maniacal intensity. Suddenly, two pairs of feminine hands emerged from the foliage, only to be yanked backward again as if their owners had been forcefully pulled deeper into the brush.Elsewhere in the clusia, another trembling bush began to settle, and a head slowly poked out — Ronaldo’s.He was panting, his cheeks flushed, his eyes wide with some dazed o