3

After lunch, as they crossed the courtyard, Jessy slowed his pace until he was walking alongside Rafael, who was distracted, scrolling through his phone.

“Hey,” Jessy called quietly, making sure Clara and Hanna—who were walking a few steps ahead—couldn’t hear.

“What’s up, cousin?” Rafael replied without looking up.

“Have you… noticed anything strange about Clara today?”

Rafael lifted his gaze, frowning.

“Strange how?”

“I don’t know… it feels like she’s… hiding something.”

Rafael stopped walking for a second, looking ahead at Clara. She was smiling, but kept fixing her hair, restless in a way that hadn’t gone unnoticed.

“Now that you mention it… she does seem different.”

Jessy sighed, briefly glancing at Hanna as well.

“And Hanna… she was wearing way more makeup than usual—for someone who never cares about that. And she didn’t really manage to hide it… I think something’s wrong.”

Rafael grew serious, his eyes fixed on the girls.

“You think…?”

“I don’t know,” Jessy replied, swallowing hard. “But they won’t say anything. And look… I know that look, Rafa. It’s not just being tired or not wanting to wake up early.”

Rafael ran a hand over his face, concerned.

“We need to keep an eye on them.”

“Yeah,” Jessy agreed firmly. “We can’t just let this slide.”

Up ahead, Clara turned around, waved at them, smiling, urging them to hurry.

“Come on!” she called.

Jessy and Rafael followed, but now a quiet tension lingered between them.

At the end of the school day, the four of them walked together to their usual ice cream shop—a cozy little place with wooden tables and walls covered in old photographs. They sat toward the back, where it was quieter. Clara and Hanna seemed more relaxed, laughing at Rafael’s jokes while eating their ice cream. But Jessy couldn’t get the image of poorly concealed makeup and frightened looks from that morning out of his head.

He waited for the right moment—when their laughter softened and a comfortable silence settled over the table.

“Hanna… Clara…” he said, looking at them gently, yet firmly.

The cousins stopped moving their spoons, their eyes attentive.

“Rafa and I… we noticed that you’ve been acting different.”

Rafael nodded, his worried gaze fixed on Clara, who immediately looked away.

“What’s going on?” Jessy pressed, his tone calm, without judgment. “It’s obvious you’re hiding something.”

Hanna bit her lip, gripping the edge of her milkshake cup tightly. Clara closed her eyes for a second, took a deep breath, but couldn’t stop the tear that slipped down her face.

“Please… tell us,” Rafael asked softly, taking Clara’s hand across the table.

It was Hanna who broke the silence, her voice weak.

“It was… it was last night.”

She exchanged a look with Clara, who nodded, encouraging her.

“We got home a little late… it wasn’t even that late, but…”

Clara finished, her voice shaking.

“My dad got furious.”

Rafael frowned.

“And…?”

“He… he hit us,” Hanna confessed, her eyes fixed on the table, as if shame alone could make her disappear.

Jessy took a deep breath, clenching his hands against his leg.

“What do you mean… he hit you?”

Clara wiped her face quickly with the sleeve of her jacket, trying to hold onto her dignity.

“Like he always does.”

Hanna nodded, tears filling her eyes.

“Always… for as long as we can remember. He takes his anger out on us… yells… hits… and sometimes we don’t even know why.”

Rafael shook his head in disbelief, furious.

“And… your mom, Clara?”

The girls let out a humorless laugh.

“She watches,” Clara murmured bitterly. “She even seems to enjoy it.”

The silence that settled over the table was heavy, suffocating. Jessy leaned in closer, meeting Hanna’s eyes.

“You can’t keep living like this.”

Hanna took a shaky breath.

“We don’t have anywhere to go…”

Clara added in a thin voice:

“All we have is each other.”

Jessy and Rafael exchanged a look, unsure in that moment what to do—but certain of one thing: they were not going to let the girls face this alone anymore.

Jessy rested his elbows on the table, leaning forward. His expression was firm and determined, contrasting with the tenderness of the way he held Hanna’s hand.

“You’re not going through this anymore. I swear,” he said quietly, but with absolute conviction. “You have us now. And we’ll figure this out.”

Rafael, still holding Clara’s hand, nodded seriously.

“You’re not alone. And you never will be again.”

Clara bit her lip, trying to hold back the tears threatening to fall.

“But… how?” she asked softly. “He’s powerful, Rafa. We live in fear. He controls everything at home, and… it feels like no one can stand up to him.”

“My dad can,” Jessy said without hesitation. “Actually, he’s more influential than your father in many areas. In business, he has more allies, more respect, more power. If you trust me… I’ll talk to him.”

Hanna looked startled.

“But… what if it only makes things worse? What if he tries to get revenge?”

“That won’t happen,” Jessy assured her. “My dad knows how to deal with this kind of situation. And he hates injustice. Once he knows what you’re going through, he won’t stand by and do nothing.”

“And until then…” Rafael added, looking at Clara, “…you’ll be okay. We’ll help. We’ll stay close—every step of the way.”

The girls looked at each other, still afraid, still unsure—but something had changed in their eyes now: hope.

Hanna gently squeezed Jessy’s hand and offered a small smile.

“Thank you.”

“I mean it, baby,” Jessy said, using the nickname for the first time. “There’s nothing more important right now than getting you out of this.”

“And fast,” Rafael added.

For a few seconds, silence filled the space—heavy with unspoken promises, deeply felt.

Finally, Clara took a deep breath.

“Then… we trust you.”

And in that moment, right there in that small neighborhood ice cream shop, something changed. A bond was formed.

Hanna and Clara would never be alone again.