June 18, 2009 — Outskirts of EVA — Zone 47.

  Still drowsy, Sarah decides to get up to make some coffee. Leaving her room and entering the corridor to her left, she notices something unusual. Her father’s door is slightly open. Walking barefoot down the hallway, passing the staircase that leads to the first floor, she reaches the room and calls for him before entering, yet there is no response.

  Carefully, she leans her head inside. A neatly made bed is all she finds.

  Descending the stairs, her father’s voice echoes softly through the house.

  "So, will you come this weekend so we can go down together?"

  After a few seconds of silence, he speaks again.

  "Oh. You will go down at Lúcio’s place. Alright then. See you. Bye."

  He ends the call and places the phone upon the table.

  Having overheard the conversation, Sarah steps down slowly. Her bare feet glide across the steps. Her black sweatpants contrast with the gray of the staircase and walls, the twin yellow lines along the sides standing out.

  "Father, who were you talking to? You woke up so early."

  He turns, slightly startled.

  "Because I went to sleep very early."

  "True." A faint smile appears on her face. "And who were you speaking with?"

  "Oh, it was Marcos. He often comes by."

  "I see. Alright. I will make breakfast."

  "Alright. Try not to add too much sugar."

  She murmurs softly with a playful smile.

  This narrative has been purloined without the author's approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.

  "Miserable."

  After breakfast, Júlio leaves for work, and Sarah returns to sleep. By the time she wakes again, it is nearly eleven.

  A simple lunch is prepared. The day drifts by in quiet habits.

  Books. Newspapers. Cycling through the city. Running across the park.

  Parkour climbs with companions daring to scale the great wall just to glimpse the distant noble coastline.

  And as always, the promise of a lively Friday night awaits her, something she knows how to enjoy better than anyone.

  June 19, 2009.

  Sarah lies in her room reading an adventure story. In it, the protagonist aids strangers in reclaiming their home, discovering along the way a hidden fragment of himself.

  She often wonders whether she will one day live such an adventure.

  Music fills her ears as she stares at the ceiling. Then the doorbell rings.

  Once. Twice. Again.

  Dragging herself from bed, she descends the stairs, puzzled as to why her father has not answered.

  Opening the door, she finds Gilberto, a broad shouldered man dressed in refined casual clothes.

  "Hello, Sarah. My, how you have grown."

  "Hello," she replies quietly.

  "Is Júlio here?"

  "He should be. Please, have a seat."

  She walks through the house calling for him.

  "Father."

  In the basement doorway, she finally finds him.

  Startled, then relieved.

  "Gilberto is looking for you."

  "Of course. I forgot he was coming today."

  A brief exchange of smiles follows.

  Soon the men converse in the living room while Sarah retreats to her room.

  Night falls.

  Sleep arrives with music still playing.

  Then abruptly, deep bass breaks the silence.

  Half awake, she silences the phone.

  Moments later, faint tapping sounds emerge.

  At the window, an owl pecks at the glass, illuminated by moonlight. Curious, Sarah approaches quietly, observing the bird devouring a grasshopper.

  A small accidental noise startles it.

  The owl vanishes into the night.

  Sarah returns to bed, retrieving an old brown leather bound book once read to her by her mother.

  Golden Dawn.

  A legendary tale of a warrior who wields only a shield.

  Memories of her mother linger within its worn pages.

  Hours pass unnoticed.

  Then the sound of a door closing.

  Footsteps.

  Voices.

  "Wait here. I will check if she is asleep."

  Júlio enters gently. Light floods the room.

  A caring touch. A kiss upon her shoulder. The scent of alcohol.

  "She is sleeping. Let us go."

  Curiosity awakens.

  Quietly, Sarah rises.

  Step by step, she follows the faint light leading to the basement.

  With each descending step, her breath slows, her heartbeat intensifies.

  Yet at the bottom, no one.

  Only shelves. Boxes. Tools.

  And something else.

  An unfamiliar opening concealed behind a shifted cabinet.

  A hidden void where floor should exist.

  From its depths, a stifling air rises.

  Every instinct urges retreat.

  Yet curiosity prevails.

  Against her better judgment, Sarah begins her descent.