Chapter 67 Your intuition is dangerously accurate, João Pedro.
In the middle of dinner, Heitor's cell phone—a children's model customized by Daniel Lutz—began to ring insistently. When he saw his father's name on the screen, the sparkle in the boy's eyes disappeared. “Daddy wants me to come back now... but I don't want to,” he confessed, his head bowed.
“That's your home, you have to go back,” said Katherine, keeping her tone calm.
“But I don't like those people. And they don't like me either.”
Katherine leaned back in her chair, watching little Lutz intently. “Heitor, have you ever heard of the cuckoo that occupies the magpie's nest?”
His eyes sparkled with intellectual challenge. “I know! The cuckoo is a shameless bird. It waits for the magpie to leave to lay its eggs in her nest and take over everything.”
“Exactly,” concluded Katherine. “Knowing that, do you still want to give your nest to them?”
Heitor blinked, absorbing the lesson. Katherine's intention was clear: if he ran away, Nísia and Rosana would win the war. “I understand. I'm not going to be the bird that runs away. That place is mine. If anyone has to leave, let it be them! But...” he hesitated, “you're family too, sis. Why don't you come back with me?”
Katherine looked at her brother through her long eyelashes and allowed a slight smile to appear on her lips. “Are you done eating?” she asked, masterfully sidestepping the emotional subject.
“I'll have another bowl!” replied Heitor, returning to the fish with renewed vigor.
At eight o'clock that night, the Lutzes' driver picked up Heitor. Katherine returned to the Arbex mansion, where she was immediately “kidnapped” by Octavio for a study session. Anastasia, beaming at the sight of the two together, promised special snacks for ten o'clock that night.
Upon entering the room, Katherine was greeted by a stack of printed sheets.
“My brother has prepared specific practice tests for you,” Octavio explained excitedly. “I also got one, unfortunately.” Katherine looked at the test with her usual disinterest, but picked up the pen. While Octavio, with his characteristic restlessness, lost himself between his cell phone and random conversations, Katherine immersed herself in the questions.
In less than two hours, she finished everything, setting the test aside with precise movements. Octavio had barely reached the halfway point, frustrated by the questions he couldn't solve.
Suddenly, the door opened. “Snack time,” announced a deep voice.
Octavio jumped out of his chair, surprised. “Brother? What are you doing here? Where's Mom?”
João Pedro ignored his youngest brother, keeping his eyes fixed on Katherine. “There's something outside that you like.”
Katherine raised her eyebrows, intrigued, and followed him to the dining room. On the immaculate white table, the contrast was striking: several paper packages exuded the unmistakable aroma of the night market. Fried noodles, grilled meat, spicy broth, and tea with milk—a legitimate street feast.
“Did you buy this?” she asked, stopping beside him.
João Pedro lowered his gaze, staring at her with an intensity that seemed to want to decipher her. He walked over to the table, picked up a pair of chopsticks, and replied with his usual indifference: “Octavio loves this junk food, so I bought extra.”
“And how did you know... that these are my favorites too?”
João's back stiffened for a millisecond. He turned and found Katherine looking at him provocatively, her eyes laughing at him as if they had just caught him red-handed. Her provocation wasn't irritating; it was magnetic.
“Intuition,” he replied, returning to stirring his noodles to hide his reaction.
Katherine slowly approached, picked up a pancake, and took a generous bite. “Your intuition is dangerously accurate, João Pedro.”
He glanced sideways and saw the expression of pure pleasure on her face. Her cheeks moving, her lips shiny with sauce... João felt his throat go dry.
“Ah! Pasta!”
Barbecue! Tea with milk!“ Octavio came running, breaking the spell. ”Brother, have you become a saint or something?!"
As Octavio's hand reached for the cup of tea with milk, João Pedro's chopsticks acted like lethal tweezers, pinching his brother's wrist with pinpoint accuracy.
“That's not yours,” hissed João.
Octavio stared at his older brother, indignant. “I want to drink it! Why can't I?”
“What kind of man drinks tea with milk?” retorted João Pedro, his voice cold and devoid of any compassion. “Go back to your studies.”
Octavio pouted dramatically. “You bought enough food for an army! What difference does it make if I have a sip? Katherine can't handle all this alone.”
Katherine, who had been watching the dispute with silent amusement, intervened in a low voice: “Let the boy drink, João. There's no need to separate tea with milk between boys and girls. It's just a drink.”
Hearing her voice, João Pedro hesitated for a second and finally let go of his brother's wrist. Octavio massaged his arm, feeling the pressure the chopsticks had left.
“See?” Octavio teased. “Katherine is younger than you, but her mind is much more open. Sometimes you can be more old-fashioned than our parents!”
Without wasting any time, the youngest brother pierced the seal on the tea with milk and took a deep sip, sighing with satisfaction. “This is a piece of heaven...”
When he opened his eyes after the sip, Octavio caught his older brother staring. João Pedro was motionless, staring at Katherine without blinking as she walked calmly toward the courtyard. Octavio couldn't resist and waved his hand in front of his brother's face.
“Brother? Earth calling João Pedro. What are you staring at so intently?”
João's gaze turned to Octavio, but he remained silent. A mischievous smile began to appear on the youngest brother's face; he had finally connected the dots.
“You know...” Octavio began, his tone heavy with provocation, “the way you looked at Katherine just now was very strange.”
João maintained his facade of indifference. “What are you talking about?”
“Nothing. I just find it curious that when you look at her, it's as if the rest of the world disappears. You only see her.”
And your gaze... it becomes strangely gentle.“ Octavio raised his eyebrows, gathering his courage. ”And there's more: I noticed that the route you take with the dog has changed. Now you always follow the path she takes..." Octavio suddenly shut his mouth. João Pedro's silence became heavy, suffocating.
Octavio's scalp began to tingle; he felt that if he said another word, his brother might sell him to some boarding school in Alaska.
He expected a cold scolding or to be called a nuisance. However, João did not refute him. Instead, the man pondered for a long second and turned his eyes back to Katherine's figure in the courtyard.
Octavio stood open-mouthed, shock paralyzing his features. “Man... you can't be...”
“Go study,” João Pedro ordered.
The sentence was a whip of ice. Octavio, realizing he had crossed the safety line, obeyed promptly and ran to his room.
João walked to the doorframe. Under the silvery moonlight, Katherine stood a few feet away, looking like an ethereal painting in the middle of the night. He watched her in silence, feeling that, no matter how hard he tried, he could no longer look away.
At that moment, it was as if the mountain of ice that João Pedro had built around himself had encountered the warmest light of the sun. Three thousand points of cold dissipated, giving way to ten thousand rays of a new and disturbing clarity.