26.
AURORA VALEN?A
I touched Dante.
I spent the night remembering it.
It had not been accidental.
It had not been fear in the hospital.
It had not been our fingers meeting over a folder.
I had chosen it.
Raised my hand.
Touched his scar.
I could claim it had been gratitude.
That was true.
But not all of it.
There had also been desire.
Memory.
Curiosity about the man he was becoming.
That frightened me.
At six, the triplets woke.
At six oh-five, there was no space for romantic thoughts.
Tomás had wet the bed.
Elisa wanted to wear the previous day’s clothes.
Cecília refused to leave the bedroom until I confirmed three times that Dante would return.
“Is he coming today?” she asked.
“We didn’t arrange anything.”
“Call.”
“It is still early.”
“Seven thirty is okay.”
I looked at her.
“Who said?”
“Daddy.”
Traitors.
Dante truly was learning the rules.
At exactly seven thirty, my telephone vibrated.
Good morning. How are they?
I answered:
Awake. Tomás wet the bed. Elisa wants to wear dirty clothes. Cecília is waiting for you.
His response took a moment.
May I come?
I looked at the children.
At myself.
At eight.
He arrived with coffee.
That time, authorized.
Cecília ran.
Tomás showed him the wet mattress.
Elisa asked whether he thought the dirty clothes were pretty.
“Pretty, but they need washing,” he answered.
“Mommy said same.”
“Then she is right.”
“You agree.”
The sentence produced silence.
The children did not notice.
Dante looked at me.
I looked away.
The morning continued.
He helped remove the mattress.
Took the girls to school.
Returned with Tomás.
When only the three of us remained, the atmosphere felt different.
The memory of the previous night was present.
We did not mention it.
I worked.
Dante played with Tomás.
Then he received a telephone call and went into the kitchen.
The door remained open.
His voice changed.
“When?”
Silence.
“Are you certain?”
Another pause.
“Do not speak to Aurora yet.”
I stopped.
My body became rigid.
Dante appeared seconds later.
He saw my expression.
“I intended to tell you in person.”
“What?”
“Otávio was seen in Belo Horizonte.”
Fear appeared cold.
“Where?”
“At a hotel two days ago.”
“Why did they only discover it now?”
“He used false identification. A camera captured his face.”
“Is he still there?”
“No.”
“Does he know I’m here?”
“Probably.”
I looked at Tomás.
He stacked toy cars.
“Have the cameras been installed?”
“Today.”
“I want security at the school.”
“I can arrange it.”
“Without men frightening the children.”
“Discreet.”
“And at the studio.”
“All right.”
“I also want everything Miguel knows.”
“He’s coming.”
“When?”
“In one hour.”
“You decided that?”
“I asked him to come. I can cancel.”
I breathed.
“No.”
Dante nodded.
“I want to move all of you to my house for several days.”
“No.”
“Aurora…”
“I will not run away again.”
“It is not running.”
“It feels like it.”
“It is security.”
“My house can be made secure too.”
“It has street access.”
“So does yours.”
“I have a better system.”
“And walls.”
“Yes.”
“I am not teaching my children to live locked away because of Otávio.”
Dante remained silent.
“What do you suggest?” I asked.
“Security here. Different routes to school. Suspend public outings. Perhaps close the studio.”
“I need to work.”
“You can work from my house.”
“No.”
“Then here with security.”
“All right.”
“The children do not remain alone.”
“They never do.”
“Not even only with Mrs. Lurdes.”
Irritation rose.
“She cared for them when you did not even know their names.”
“I’m not diminishing that.”
“It sounds like you are.”
“I’m saying Otávio may use three children to pressure you.”
Fear exploded.
“Do not say that.”
“We need to consider it.”
“Not in front of him.”
Tomás looked up.
“Who uses child?”
We had been careless.
I crouched.
“No one.”
“Daddy said.”
Dante came toward us.
“I spoke about an adult problem. You are safe.”
“There is bad man?”
My heart tightened.
“There is a person who did wrong things,” I explained.
“Like Daddy?”
Silence fell.
Dante accepted it.
“Yes,” he replied. “But different things.”
“You were bad?”
“I did something bad.”
“Now not?”
Dante looked at me.
“I’m trying to be better.”
Tomás accepted it.
“The man say sorry.”
“Maybe not.”
“Then he’s bad.”
Child logic again.
Miguel arrived before ten.
He brought photographs.
Otávio entering a hotel.
Older.
Thinner.
Gray beard.
Even so, I recognized the man who raised me.
My uncle.
My family.
My executioner.
“Who did he meet?” I asked.
“An attorney and a journalist,” Miguel answered. “He also made a call to Santa Brígida.”
“To whom?”
“A prepaid number. We could not identify it.”
Dante remained nearby.
He did not take over the conversation.
“What does he want from me?” I asked.
“The documents,” Miguel said. “Or confirmation that they do not exist.”
“They do not.”
“Were there copies?”
“No. I only had notes.”
“Where?”
I thought.
“At the museum.”
Dante stiffened.
“Are they still there?”
“Perhaps.”
“Aurora.”
“I hid a notebook inside the base of a sculpture.”
Miguel came closer.
“Which one?”
“A wooden saint in the secondary storage area.”
“The museum is closed.”
“Part was sealed. Part of the collection was transferred.”
“The sculpture?”
“I don’t know.”
Dante picked up the telephone.
“I will find out.”
“Do not call your company.”
“Why?”
“Otávio may have people there.”
“Then Miguel checks.”
He looked at him.
“Can you?”
“Yes.”
“Do it.”
Miguel raised an eyebrow.
“Was that an order?”
Dante breathed.
“A request.”
“Better.”
Despite the fear, I almost laughed.
Miguel stepped outside to make the call.
Dante approached.
“You never mentioned the notebook.”
“I forgot.”
“Does it contain important information?”
“Records of duplicate pieces, dates, names of transportation companies.”
“It may prove the scheme.”
“Perhaps.”
“And Otávio knows.”
“He knew I wrote everything down.”
Dante closed his eyes.
“You are in danger.”
“I understand.”
“Then go to my house.”
“No.”
“Why?”
The question came more strongly.
“Because I do not want to depend on you to feel safe.”
“This is not dependence.”
“It is exactly dependence.”
“Accepting help does not erase your autonomy.”
The phrase was mine.
From the market.
A support network was not failure.
I looked at him.
“You are using my words.”
“Because I listened.”
Fear and irritation mixed.
“And if I say no?”
“I place security here, as you requested.”
“Without insisting?”
“I will disagree. But respect your decision.”
“You believe it is wrong.”
“I believe it is dangerous.”
“Even so?”
“Even so, it is your decision.”
The answer was what I had demanded from the beginning.
Now that I received it, I did not know what to do with it.
Miguel returned.
“The sculpture was transferred to a Ferraz Group warehouse in Petrópolis.”
Dante went still.
“My warehouse?”
“Yes.”
“Otávio may have access,” I said.
“Not without a record,” Dante answered.
“He falsified records for years.”
“Then we retrieve it first.”
“We?”
“You know where the notebook is.”
“I can explain.”
“I do not trust anyone else to find it without damaging the sculpture.”
“And the children?”
Dante looked at them.
Elisa and Cecília were still at school.
Tomás played on the floor.
“They remain with Mrs. Lurdes and security.”
“You just said that was not enough.”
“For one night, with people surrounding the house.”
“I am not going to Petrópolis today.”
“The longer we wait…”
“No.”
Dante stopped.
Miguel watched us.
“All right,” Dante said.
I expected an argument.
None came.
“We arrange it for tomorrow,” he suggested. “We leave early and return the same day.”
“I will not leave all three for the entire day.”
“I can go alone with your instructions.”
“No.”
“Then what option?”
I needed to decide.
Not simply react against him.
Think.
“Mrs. Lurdes stays here. Marta may help after school. Two guards outside. We leave tomorrow after dropping them off and return before five.”
“The road takes…”
“By helicopter.”
Dante raised his eyebrows.
“You hate helicopters.”
“I hate leaving my children longer.”
“All right.”
“Miguel comes.”
“Yes.”
“And no one from the Ferraz Group knows why.”
“Only the person responsible for the warehouse, to open it.”
“Without mentioning my name.”
“All right.”
Miguel wrote it down.
The plan formed.
For the first time, I used Dante’s resources without feeling he controlled me.
Because I decided.
He executed.
“Today, reinforced security,” I said.
“Yes.”
“We collect the girls together.”
“All right.”
“And tell them only that people are working outside.”
“We do not mention Otávio.”
“No.”
Tomás held up a car.
“This goes museum.”
“Tomorrow,” I said.
“I go?”
“No.”
“Daddy goes?”
“Yes.”
“You go together?”
I looked at Dante.
“We do.”
Tomás smiled.
“Like family.”
My heart stopped.
Dante did not confirm it.
He waited.
I crouched.
“Like two people solving something important.”
“And Daddy and Mommy.”
“That too.”
He accepted it.
Miguel left to make the arrangements.
Dante remained.
“Are you certain about tomorrow?”
“No.”
“We can cancel.”
“No.”
“All right.”
“Are you afraid?”
He looked at me.
“Very.”
“Of Otávio?”
“Of failing again when you need to believe me.”
His honesty struck me.
“I do not need you to be perfect.”
“I know.”
“I need you not to hide anything.”
“I won’t.”
“Even if you think it will protect me.”
“Even then.”
“And if you find anything against me…”
“I ask you first.”
“You listen.”
“I listen.”
I nodded.
Dante approached.
Stopped one step away.
“May I touch you?”
The question changed the air.
There was no urgency.
No explicit desire.
Only shared fear.
I could say no.
Instead, I held out my hand.
Dante took it.
His fingers closed around mine.
Firm.
Warm.
Tomás continued playing.
Light entered through the closed windows.
Security guards arrived on the street.
Otávio was somewhere, moving again toward my life.
But I was not alone.
That realization should have brought relief.
Instead, it opened another kind of fear.
Because trusting Dante no longer seemed impossible.
It seemed to be beginning.
And everything that begins may grow.
Or break.
I kept my hand in his anyway.