(GAVIN)

"The girl is touching me again.

Her fingers are cold like the touch of autumn in the United States, but light and subtle like dew drops clinging to leaves and tree canopies. She barely touches me, but even the light contact is enough to make me blush violently, more than I already was before. My heart races in my chest, and this time I feel like I won't be able to control myself. Everything was on the verge of conclusion; I just needed to find my voice and fight.

Yes, I had a lot to lose, but I also had a lot to gain. I would never know what would happen if I wasn't brave enough to try. So I was decided. I'm going to take her hand and turn her face towards me, speak everything I felt. And it would be even better if Donovan were nearby. Killing two birds with one stone.

However, as soon as I look at her, I notice something is wrong. Her gaze is vacant and lost. I notice, with astonishment, that she wasn't looking at the fountain in front of us at any moment. No, she was lost again in the hell we were desperately trying to pull her out of. Before I can do anything, I see her chest rising and falling rapidly. Amanda wants to tell us something. So I just wait for her to speak her sentence.

'I lost my child.'

A crushing, oppressive silence.

For a moment, it's as if all other sounds (the fountain water, children playing nearby, parallel conversations between old ladies, passersby, vendors, and birds) disappear. Or rather, they continue, but they are useless and completely irrelevant. In shock, I see Donovan hold his breath. Was he as nervous as I was?

Caught off guard, we couldn't react correctly or even in time. All we could do was look at Amanda, who still remains in the same position. Her fingers still touch me. She is summoning strength not to be consumed.

I can't prevent the first tear from falling.

. . . . . . . . . . .

(AMANDA)

"I had touched Gavin before, and in a very specific context. I wanted to calm him down, and I succeeded, but I had to pay the price. Now, despite the panic still being very real and potentially projecting violently, I felt that even that wasn't a match for the level of pain and torture that revisiting cursed memories was. It was as if the horror of touch was nothing compared to the things I was about to say.

To further increase resistance and not freak out there, in that crowded square, I leaned against Donovan. It was surprising to see that with a simple gesture I could shake him up. From the corner of my eye, I noticed how disoriented and stunned he was by my touch. All his self-control simply vanished.

Then I uttered the cursed phrase, one I never thought I would say before.

'I lost my child.'

And just with that, just with that sentence, I feel like I'm being pulled somewhere else, leaving my own body. My mouth moves, my heart beats, and I breathe, but it's not me. There were still many stories to tell, but my world collapsed that day; the day I lost my extension, the mark I had placed on the world.

. . . . . . . . . . .

(DONOVAN)

"I couldn't say if I stayed there for hours, minutes, days, or decades. Time simply didn't pass, or it passed too quickly. And during all that time, both Gavin and I remained in absolute silence. Amanda simply poured out her heart, and it was the first time I heard her speak so much. Her tone was low but terribly clear. Every word was articulated perfectly, and her voice wasn't cracked and broken like before. It was terrible, as if she had that story stuck in her throat for...

Her son was three years old when he died. So it had been a while. She narrated everything, from the moment she was informed of his death to the burial. She told of the days she went without eating or drinking, where taking a shower was no longer a habit, but a tremendous effort. She talked about the days she needed all her strength to get out of bed, start over, rise again. She told of the days when she got a new job; when she used to leave in the morning and return in the afternoon.

Then her eyes became more and more vacant, her speech more dragged and abrupt. Gavin had tears running freely down his face.

Amanda stopped talking. She was halfway through the sentence when she simply... stopped. I saw her take a breath, cough, and try to continue, but...

'Amanda, that's enough,' were my first words after all that time. I touched her shoulder to comfort her, but her resistance was so strong that I quickly let go.

Damn it. We had exceeded the limit. We should have made her stop earlier.

As if reading my thoughts, Gavin wiped his tears with the back of his hand and knelt right in front of her, taking great care not to touch her.

'Thank you. For sharing this with us, Amanda.'

'Thank you for trusting us, shorty,' I say.

'Now let's go home, okay? You were very strong,' Gavin's tone is reassuring and gentle. I notice every drop of emotion threatening to overflow in his words. 'Can you get up?'

She nods weakly, and slowly, as if forcing her legs to remember such a basic movement, she gets up from the bench. Her eyes are as vacant as they used to be; there is a total absence of expression on her face. I feel terribly guilty. I should have known something like this could happen, should have anticipated that risk. But it was so hard to think clearly when she gave me that special smile; when her eyes sparkled just to see me. How to focus on anything else when that beautiful princess was all that mattered?

It's nearly 3 p.m. when we finally enter the apartment. Amanda is silent as always, unable to even look at us. I'm afraid she'll be alone in her own room, so I ask her if Gavin and I can keep her company. Her nod is so weak that I can barely distinguish it, but then she opens the door to the apartment's old guest room and leaves it open for us to pass. Without ceremony, she simply lies down on the bed and stares at the ceiling.

I sit on one end of the bed and Gavin on the other. I want to stroke her leg, but I know it would be a terrible idea. The story she told was terrible. I imagined a lively little baby with Amanda's eyes and hair; maybe even her intelligence. Knowing that I would never know him, and that not only she, but I also lost him forever, hurt too much. Can you miss someone you never knew? Because that anguish consuming my soul was very similar to grief.

Gavin stared at Amanda's face, now with her eyes closed and breathing deeply. As soon as I left for my apartment, they would be alone. It crushed me like an anvil, and there was nothing I could do. Yes, I know Gavin was an amazing person and would take care of her well. The thing is, I was selfish, and I wanted to be the one who would be there for her full time. To put food on her plate, see her dressing in colorful clothes, comb her hair. I wanted to be the one lying beside her at the end of the night.

Yes, I know this reasoning is selfish. I'm not proud of it. But it's what I feel and what I want. The decision I will make will be based on this feeling, of course, but I am not reckless. I know exactly what is at stake.

After a few minutes, we realize that Amanda's breathing is very soft and rhythmic, indicating that she is napping. Gavin subtly signals for us to leave the room. We keep the door wide open as we walk towards the balcony.

Here's the English translation of the text, with dashes replaced by quotation marks:

"It's barely enough time for us to reach the balustrade. The host breaks down in tears, and it's such a heartfelt, painful cry that I can't help but deny him a hug.

We stand like this for a few seconds until Gavin manages to breathe again. I look at him, very concerned. I ask if he wants some water, but he declines. Then the crying begins to subside, just sniffling a bit and wiping away the tears that keep falling. His face is red.

'She... She...' he stammers, barely managing to start a simple sentence.

'I know,' I say, serious. I lean against the railing next to him.

'She had a baby... And she lost it...'

'Yes.'

'But she was recovering from the grief, Donovan.' He sniffs a bit louder and continues, his voice interrupted by severely restrained fits of crying. 'She was working, trying to move on even after something so...'

I wait in silence, letting him finish his thought.

'... So why did we find her on Botafogo beach? What happened that, even after trying to move forward, trying to live... Why was she like that?'

I breathe, trying to calm my own heart. Serenity was needed at a moment like this. So I speak:

'Many things happened to her. This was one of the events, but I think... I'm sure that this was just the first disaster in the middle of an avalanche.' I drum my fingers as I focus on a random point ahead of me. 'And there were so many... That broke her.'

Gavin sniffs once more, the only sign that he's listening to me and not lost in reverie.

'But there's still hope. Even after all this, she can speak.' I take a step beside him. 'Speaking of which... What did she say? I mean, what was the first thing she said to you when you found out she still had a voice?'

He looks at me with an expression of sorrow, seriousness, and pain.

'She told me to take my hands off her.'

Seconds of silence. He swallows hard and explains:

'She was having a nightmare... And it had been a long time since that happened. So I tried to wake her up, and I did, but she wasn't exactly awake... I mean, she was, but I'm sure she wasn't fully conscious.'

I nod, encouraging him to keep talking.

'So... She had a panic attack and started screaming, crying, and scratching herself...'

I suddenly close my eyes, trying to push the image out of my head. Gavin continues his account, his tone growing darker.

'I swore to her. I swore while she was having that crisis, while screaming and hurting herself trying to get her mind back in place... I swore that I would hunt down each and every damn bastard who did this to her.'

I can't help but stare at him. The Gavin I know would never say something of this magnitude. I don't allow my surprise to show, just continue listening to what he has to say.

'She has no family. Probably no friends. Lost her child. She's alone and literally only has u... us to help her. You said she probably faced a series of disasters, and that's why she broke to that point. Tell me, Donovan.' He looks me deep in the eyes. I breathe in anticipation of his question. Had the moment of truth arrived? 'This horror she has of touching someone. Do you know what it's about? Any idea?'

A memory immediately comes to mind after his words: the hospital room where Amanda was admitted, how she tensed at my touch, and how I mentally noted that observation.

'Yes,' I simply reply.

Exasperated, Gavin crosses his arms and raises his eyebrows, waiting for me to continue.

This time it's my eyes that well up. I can't look at him. I just can't. So I look back at a random point on the horizon.

'She was probably assaulted. Once or many times.'

(JAMES)

Alexandra has been staring fixedly at her cell phone screen for a good five minutes. She doesn't touch it, just stares at whatever it is. I let her contemplate the device while I remove the cork from a champagne bottle; an early celebration of our impending success and the prelude to a golden age for the two of us. I pour the two glasses arranged. We're on the balcony of my apartment in Cabo Frio, it's sunset, and the scene is perfect for a toast, maybe some smooches later. Well, who am I kidding? Of course, there would be smooches.

However, as soon as I sought out Alexandra, I noticed she was different. Much quieter than usual, no sign of her usual sarcastic smile. She didn't seem very focused on what I had to say, and I could even be shaken by that, but impatience leads to ruin. I knew the redhead very well. She would share any information that could be useful to us. I just needed to act like a perfect gentleman.

I sit in the chair in front of her and raise my glass:

'Cheers.'

'Huh?' she says. Then she finally takes her eyes off her cell phone and sees me, picking up her own glass shortly afterward. 'Cheers,' she says and toasts.

'You're so distracted today, my gazelle.'

'Gazelle?' her tone is laughter. I can finally see a little of the usual Alexandra from every day, although still obscured. 'Gazelles are prey, James. I'm not prey.'

'But of course. How foolish of me.'

We take our sips, then look at each other. I open my best inviting smile and take her hand, kissing her on the back. Her expression is of ecstasy and momentary curiosity.

'If I'm distracted, you're unusually kind.'

'What an offense. I'm always kind,' I reply with irony.

'Your kindness usually comes after throwing me into bed.'

'And if I'm kind before and after?'

'Then we'd go back to the beginning of this conversation, which was when I said you're unusually kind.'

I decide to put aside the amenities and fleeting conversations, attacking directly on the neck instead.

'Is it something to do with the photo you were looking at?'

Her eyes show a small shock, but she quickly opens one of those smiles full of falsehood.

'So observant.'

I don't answer. Just keep staring.

'Do you remember Ketlin?'

'Your old wedding godmother?'

'That.'

'What about her?'

Alexandra takes her cell phone off the table, puts her password and then shows me a photo.

'She was in a park today and decided to show me that.'

In the photo, I see a slightly blurry park bench with three figures. The photo was taken from afar and at an unfavorable angle, most likely because Ketlin had tried to do it quickly and discreetly. Then I see that one of the people sitting is the all-powerful Gavin. Another is his faithful squire, Donovan. And between them, shriveled and unusual, a very thin girl. The men are standing still, but the girl's mouth is open. She is talking to them.

I look at her.

'Should this mean something?'

Alexandra puts a hair behind her ear, thoughtful.

'Maybe it could mean something.'

We return to drinking champagne. I feel that machinations and planning will have a small change in their courses."