271- The Bitter Taste of Justice
271- The Bitter Taste of Justice
POV Raica:
"We were so close to catching the accomplices and I have a suspicion."
"You have a suspicion — does that convict anyone?"
"Sorry to disappoint you. I explode! I'm done with this shit."
"Disappoint? That's not the point. I need to know if the sons of bitches who ruined my brother's life will be punished. Why do you communicate more with Nicholas than with me?" My tone is not soft.
"Raica, calm down!"
"No, Rebecca, I want answers. How did that bastard get released? What the fuck kind of justice is this?"
"You need to calm down." Her hands clamp on my arm, holding me still. "Munhoz has a powerful family; I imagined this would happen sooner or later."
My stomach twists.
A headache throbs at the corners of my eyes.
"I tried all this time to keep control, not to interfere with the investigation because I trusted those bastards would be caught—like a foolish innocent, I trusted in justice."
Isabella hugs me.
The heartfelt, icy sob wets my face. My heart clenches painfully.
"Calm down, my love," my friend whispers near my ear. I can't stay calm, not anymore.
"Munhoz will hand over his scum, believe me, we'll arrest your brother's killers."
I don't believe a single word that comes out of her mouth; unfortunately, I don't believe it.
I wipe my eyes with the back of my hands, fed up with the fearful state I've kept myself in all this time.
"I don't believe in anything anymore, Rebecca. Renan became a statistic long ago; admit that this investigation will amount to nothing, admit it," I cry out for hope. And, as I suspected, she falls silent.
The bitter taste of disappointment slides down my throat, contaminating everything inside. I run to my room in a fury that could smash anything.
"I knew it would come to nothing, damn each and every one of those monsters."
"Calm down, Preta. For God's sake!"
My body paces from side to side; a revolt buzzes through my bloodstream, I feel on the verge of a heart attack.
"The bastard was released, Isabella. Can you believe it? He killed Renan just for being gay and he was released, while my brother is dead."
My friend nods, eyes full of tears.
"We'll appeal, Raica. I'm sure Dominic and Nicholas themselves won't let everything end without severe punishment; they're as influential as that piece of shit."
Yes, they are. But they have class and pedigree. I'm not a perfect synopsis, so I have to scream to be heard.
"I don't have the patience, much less the psychological strength, to stand with my hands tied." Isabella stops by the door and watches me closely.
"Are you going to record?"
"Ahaaa!"
Of course I am.
I set up my ring light and the realization hits. I'm without my damn phone.
"Can I borrow your cell phone?"
"Sure, my bag is in the kitchen, I'll go get it."
I remain frozen, in the same spot for the time she goes and comes back, my mind, like my heart, bubbling with hatred. Bad, fucked-up thoughts dominate my body.
"The investigator left," Isabella says as she enters and hands me the device. "Friend of Athos, right?"
"Yes. Which was worthless; maybe if Athos had taken charge like he did with the kidnapping, those bastards would be dead or behind bars."
"He couldn't; not even Dominic or Nicholas managed to reach him." I adjust the equipment to the correct position. Perfect light.
"Are you sure?"
"About recording?"
"Yes, a lot of exposure, Raica."
"Exposure is what I need. Maybe people don't know that the son of a bitch was released and why he was released. I'll tell it my way."
And I guarantee I won't be sweet or fanciful like in fairy tales; I'll expose how the justice of this country favors the rich, hypocrites of a corrupt, shitty society. I lost my brother; however, his death will mark the beginning of a new era. It's a promise.
...
@ National News
The White-Collar Killer.
She made her voice heard. Raica Vásquez, sister of Renan who was cruelly murdered in the UP parking lot, did not remain silent after the release of one of the suspects in the murder, Álvaro Munhoz. The video went viral and became a worldwide topic in less than 24 hours. Raica expressed in real words how much she suffers from the incompetence of Brazilian justice and even emphasized in a statement directed at the suspect:
"Álvaro, you have my brother’s blood on your hands. And Brazilian justice condones it by setting you free."
...
When I recorded the video, the intention was to reach people, confront authorities, and, above all, challenge the killers. I needed to make sure the world would hear my desperate cry for justice, I just didn’t expect it to go this far. Within an hour, thousands of accounts had shared my image, and everything exploded far too quickly.
Twitter flooded with new cases demanding justice, victims who never received proper support from the authorities, whether psychological or social.
Obviously, Investigator Rebecca did not approve of the rebellious path I chose to channel my outrage. As soon as the video reached her, the first thing she did was call me; her words were not friendly, but they didn’t shake my convictions in the slightest.
Right after breakfast, Isabella and I headed to the mall on a mission to buy a new phone. Within an hour, I had a new device and a million messages on social media to reply to. For now, that isn’t what really bothers me—what truly does is Nicholas.
The constant attempts to talk to me extended to every thirty minutes, ever since he learned from his security guard that I now had a means of communication, as I refused to answer his calls either on the landline in his apartment or on Gael’s cell phone. And I ignored all the messages.
"Another message from Nicholas?" Isabella asks in the hall of the salon.
"You should answer."
"No." I put the phone back in my bag. "I’ll talk to him when I land in São Paulo."
"If that’s what you prefer, I support you." She looks around the crowded place. "We won’t take long, I just want to give a kiss to the troublemaker and to Marquito."
"I miss Dona Ana. Look over there"—we admire the impeccable woman styling a client’s hair in stiletto heels—"damn, such an elegant woman."
Isabella smiles proudly at her mother, and we walk further inside the new salon. I wave to the owner, who flashes a wide smile when she sees us still at the entrance.
"Well, look at this, who would have thought, today we have the illustrious presence of the Whitmore ladies." Marcos comes first, mocking, smiling, reminding me of the weight of the ring on my finger.
"Hi, Marquinho," I say as I reach for my bag, feeling my phone vibrate. "Just a minute."
Isabella continues with Marcos, while I return to the hall, pick up the device, and don’t recognize the number.