Dona Cida watched with wet eyes. She had been a single mother once. She knew that kind of fear.
“Listen to me, Amanda. I’ll help you. But you have to trust me. The baby stays with me here in the pantry while you work. There’s a meeting next door, yes—but I’ll distract her. You clean the private bathroom in the meeting room. It’s quick. If she cries, you’ll hear her.”
Amanda swallowed hard. There was no other way.
Meanwhile, in the boardroom, Arthur Albuquerque entered like a silent storm. Impeccable black suit. Dark eyes. Six middle-aged directors sweated despite the air conditioning.
“Good evening,” he said, without warmth.
It wasn’t a greeting. It was protocol.
“Someone is going to explain how two million dollars disappeared from our account,” he said calmly—terrifyingly so.
The CFO cleared his throat.
“We’re investigating. There were unauthorized transfers to a ghost account. We suspect—”
“I didn’t ask for suspicions. I asked for explanations,” Arthur cut in. “Where’s my brother Roberto? He should be here.”
Silence fell. Arthur already knew.
“The transfers started after Roberto took over the department,” the CFO admitted, trembling.
Arthur closed his eyes for a second. Roberto. Always Roberto. And beneath the anger, an old grief—the one he’d carried for five years since leukemia took his four-year-old daughter, Clarinha. Since then, Arthur existed, but didn’t live.
“Call him. Now.”
Roberto arrived with a fake smile, messy hair, smelling of whiskey. He dropped into a chair like the world owed him something.
“What’s this surprise meeting? You could’ve warned me, brother.”
Arthur looked at him like a stain.
“Sit up straight. And tell me where the two million went.”
Roberto shrugged.
“No idea. System error. Someone hacked my password. It happens.”
Arthur stood slowly, hands on the table.
“Do you think I’m an idiot?”
“Relax. It’s just money. We have plenty. Why the drama?”
Arthur was about to answer when he heard a faint sound—a whimper. He paused.
“Did you hear that?”
Before anyone could respond, the service door opened quietly…
and something small entered the world of powerful men.
Bia.
She had crawled out of the pantry, following light. To her, the massive wooden table looked like a familiar tunnel. At home, she crawled under the coffee table. She knew nothing of millions, fraud, or betrayal. Only noise, fear, and the need for safety.