Kimberly
I was furious.
I’d left the living room without a backward glance, abandoning Axel after our tense confrontation. I marched straight to the bedroom Kathleen and I were sharing. Ettore had offered us separate rooms, but I’d insisted on staying with my sister, claiming we wouldn’t be here long. He’d given me a suspicious look, like he knew more than he was letting on, but I’d ignored it at the time.
Now, though, as I realized night had fallen and we were still in this house, my restlessness only grew. Kathleen, ever more observant than I gave her credit for, crossed her arms and gave me a knowing look.
"You’ve noticed, haven’t you?" she said, rhetorically.
"Noticed what?" I snapped, even th
AxelThe morning had already started badly. My sleep had been fractured, my mind a jumble of thoughts about Kimberly, the media, and the upcoming match. But nothing could’ve prepared me for what I saw when I came downstairs."What are you doing here?" My voice came out harsher than intended, but the surprise and irritation were genuine.Leonel Baumann sat comfortably in the leather armchair, his cane resting against his knee with impeccable posture. Beside him, my grandmother Berenice smiled serenely, as if their presence were the most natural thing in the world."My, Axel, what a warm welcome for your grandparents," Leonel remarked, arching an eyebrow. "After our call yesterday, I assumed you’d expect me.""Expecting and accepting are
KimberlyI was furious.I’d left the living room without a backward glance, abandoning Axel after our tense confrontation. I marched straight to the bedroom Kathleen and I were sharing. Ettore had offered us separate rooms, but I’d insisted on staying with my sister, claiming we wouldn’t be here long. He’d given me a suspicious look, like he knew more than he was letting on, but I’d ignored it at the time.Now, though, as I realized night had fallen and we were still in this house, my restlessness only grew. Kathleen, ever more observant than I gave her credit for, crossed her arms and gave me a knowing look."You’ve noticed, haven’t you?" she said, rhetorically."Noticed what?" I snapped, even th
RebeccaDespite my strong resolve to stay calm, I walked away dazed, each step faster than the last, as if I could leave behind the harsh words my mother had stabbed into me. The square, the church, the school… everything seemed to blur into a haze of memories and pain. I just wanted to get back to the inn, lock the door to my room, and try to pull myself together. But the world felt like it was spinning faster than I could keep up.In my rush to escape, I didn’t even look both ways before crossing the street. That’s when I heard the sound of a car approaching. My body froze for a moment, and when I turned, I had no doubt—it was Pastor Antônio’s car. My father. My heart stopped, and I couldn’t move. Everything seemed to happen in slow motion: the car swerving sharply, tires screeching on the pavement, and the impact grazing me
RebeccaAs soon as I stepped off the bus and my feet touched the cobblestone ground, I felt a tightness in my chest. Castilho looked exactly the way I remembered: small and welcoming. For a brief moment, a wave of nostalgia washed over me. It felt strange to feel peace after everything I’d been through.I took a deep breath, letting the fresh countryside air fill my lungs, trying to ignore the weight of memories pulling me backward. I didn’t want to think about what happened after I went to São Paulo. Not now.I adjusted the strap of my suitcase and started walking. The streets, once so familiar, now felt like uncertain territory. I could feel the stares, people peeking from behind curtains, whispers carried on the breeze. In Castilho, no one was invisible. And I definitely wouldn’t go unnoticed.
AxelTraining that day was torture. I tried to focus, but my mind kept fixating on Kimberly. Still, I moved on autopilot, as if my body knew what to do even when my head was somewhere else.Arriving at the club had been chaotic, with reporters shouting questions about Kimberly and the pregnancy. Fred and Ettore had been right—I couldn’t have gone to her this morning. The situation had spiraled out of control. But I couldn’t lose focus.Even with my mind completely consumed by thoughts of Kimberly, I managed to score twice during practice. At the end of the session, the coach praised my performance, saying I’d been sharp, especially with the crucial Euro Cup match coming up. I nodded in acknowledgment, barely registering his wor
KimberlyI had already called my boss, Charles Whitaker, to let him know that something had come up and I didn’t know when I’d make it to work. The call was brief, but the tone of his voice made it clear that he was not pleased. Charles had always been a meticulous, controlling man—and, to be honest, a bit pedantic. He had a peculiar way of making comments that sounded harmless, but always carried a subtle sarcasm that only I seemed to pick up on. This time, though, he got straight to the point. “Kimberly, does this... situation of yours have anything to do with the story going around in the media?” he asked, his tone dripping with disdain. “About you being pregnant with a Brazilian football player’s child?”