2. Hard news to hear

 I finish getting dressed and head downstairs. I stop in the middle of the living room and see Quezia setting the breakfast table, Quelson is watching something on TV, and Mom is in the kitchen. Still visibly nervous, I sit down without uttering a    single word to them. "When I'm like this, I prefer to stay silent, so as not to hurt anyone with my words," she stops what she's doing and looks at me with confusion, not understanding my behavior.

    "And now, what's your problem?" I feel anger surge as her question reaches my ears, which, given what happened a few minutes ago, is both foolish and provocative. I place the fork on the plate with such force that it produces a brief, irritating noise. I stand up and meet her brown eyes with mine, squeezing my eyelids shut for a few seconds before releasing a sigh.

    "Are you seriously asking me that?" I make an expression of incredulity. "Quezia, Mom, both of you, or rather, all three of you..." I point to my brother, who is sitting in the living room armchair.

    "I have nothing to do with this, don't include me," he says quickly.

    "Do you know how difficult it's been for me to get over that cursed day? I made it clear that I didn't want to see anyone who would remind me of the humiliation I went through, especially her. Why would you let her into my room? If you want to maintain a friendship with her, that's fine, but don't force me to talk to that hyena again." I pause and take a deep breath before continuing, my eyes already welling up with tears. I rest my head in my hands and sigh.

    "I warned you," Quelson whispers to the two of them.

 "Niah, I'm sorry. It's just that you never told us the reason you were angry with her, I... thought it was something at the moment, because of what you went through. You don't talk to anyone, we've always been confidantes for each other..." she sniffs and wipes her face, "I just wanted to do something to cheer you up, I just wanted... I want my marbles back."

Quezia shortens the distance between us and twists her lips downward.

    "You want your marbles back?" I question, smiling with sarcasm. "And what do you expect me to do? To be friends with her again, after everything that happened? To forget everything as if nothing occurred?" I sigh. "I'm sorry, Quezia, I don't want to fight with you, but I can't forgive her yet. It's all still very recent and painful."

    "It's okay, forgive me," she extends her arms towards me.

Mom stands by the kitchen door, her head tilted to the side, the pink dishcloth hanging over her shoulder. She looks at us in silence, with a somber expression. We all fall silent for a few seconds, until the four of us engage in a warm, emotion-filled hug.

    "Quezia, I'm the one who apologizes. It wasn't my intention to push you away, to push all of you away. I... I didn't think that overcoming that day would be so difficult. I wish your father were here."

I burst into tears, between sobs, and still in the comfort of these embraces, I try to keep my voice steady and take the opportunity to talk about my decision, but I can't. So, I decide to tell them later. Maybe after I return home, while we're having dinner.

                                     ***

At the end of the day, I'm finally home, exhausted after dealing with the last work tasks and the trip. My mother is making dinner, so I give her a kiss and head up to my room. I take a cold shower and then collapse onto the bed, still in my bathrobe. I'm so tired that I end up falling asleep.

However, my sleep is interrupted by the shrill sound of the phone. I quickly lean over to the dresser, still somewhat groggy, hoping it's my father calling. When I see Bráulio's name on the phone's screen, I furrow my brow and feel a mix of sadness and irritation. After our last conversation, what more does he want to say to me?

    I hesitate for a few seconds, staring at the phone screen. Then I let the call go unanswered. Now, with no sleep and disturbed by the call, I put on some loose clothes and splash my face with water. I'm about to leave the room when I hear the phone ring again. I let out a long sigh and answer.

    "Nihara, I heard you're leaving the country, is that true?"

I feel anger building up within me. How can he be so audacious as to ask about my personal life?

    "Yes, it's true, Bráulio. I'm leaving, and that's none of your business," I reply, trying to keep my voice steady.

    "Please, Nihara, don't go. I know I messed up, but I still love you. Please, give me another chance."

I tightly close my eyes, trying to control my anger.

    "Another chance, Bráulio? Do you really think I'll just forgive you and come back to your arms? You're pathetic. Please, leave me alone," I respond vehemently.

Bráulio tries to argue, but I hang up the phone, feeling tears streaming down my face. I wipe them away forcefully, promising not to cry again. It's time to move forward and leave the past behind.

My stomach grumbles, and I head downstairs, where I see my mother bustling around, setting the dinner table all by herself.

    "Mom, let me help you set the table. Where are my siblings?" I ask as I notice their absence.

    "Your sister is taking her third shower today, I don't know where she gets this habit of taking so many showers, and your brother is on his way, he let me know he'd be late."

    "Did Dad call? Do you know when he'll be here?"

    "No, dear. You know that communication is difficult for him when he's on assignment. I think he'll be back in a few weeks."

    "Hey, my marbles," Quezia greets me, giving me a hug from behind.

    "I've told you not to call me that," I retort, pulling away from her embrace.

We are all gathered around the dining table now, and for dinner, Mom made vegetable rice, what I like to call "colorful rice," with sautéed pork chops and the fried potatoes that I adore. It's the right time to talk about my decision, but I'm as nervous as if I were about to give a presentation to a thousand people. My hands start to sweat, and without realizing it, I start pulling on my earlobe while trying to figure out how to deliver this news.

    "Daughter, what's on your mind?" Mom asks, noticing my nervousness.

    "What?" I'm surprised, snapped out of my thoughts. "Why the question? I'm fine, everything's okay!"

    "Then why are you pulling your ear? You always do that when you're worried about something," Quezia says.

I stop tugging at my ear once I realize what I'm doing. I clear my throat a bit too dramatically, straighten my posture, and try not to lose courage under the curious and concerned gazes of the three of them.

    "It's... me... I've made a decision," I pause briefly and shift my gaze to the empty plate in front of me.

    "What decision? About what?" Quezia asks.

    "Let her speak, dear," Mom commands.

    "... I won't repeat the same story. You know the reason for this decision I've made, and I ask that you understand, and please don't try to dissuade me because I have everything ready and..."

    "Nihara, get straight to the point, please," my brother implores, anxious, capturing our attention.

I clear my throat and adopt an impassive posture.

    "I...," I pause briefly and fix my gaze on some empty point again. "I'm moving to Germany in a few days," I blurt out all at once. The three of them exchange surprised glances without saying a word.