ALL Chapters & Episodes of At Break Time by C.L.Lisianto - Page 7

All Chapters of At Break Time: Chapter 61 - Chapter 70

77 Chapters

“Lionel Victorio quickly immobilized the woman and Lucas entered the house looking for someone else." Answer! Are you alone?"Looking more closely, the woman who said nothing had features similar to Miriã, the nursery worker, colluding with the crime." You're her sister, aren't you? Miriam's?"The woman just shook her head from side to side, her eyes bulging, she gave little screams and moans.While I hugged my little Clara, who was now crying, weak, in my lap, Victorio continued to hold the criminal by the arm." And Lorenzo? Where is he?"The woman looked at him and tried to wriggle out of his hands to answer. She finally answered, in pounds. We then understood her muteness and Lucas understood her response, since he had taken an express course in pounds to teach." He's at the airport now. He was tracking Victorio's cell phone and saw that they were coming here. - Lucas translates the woman's signals, which we now know is called Ana.And really, she wasn't Miriam's sister, she wa

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I jump at Loretta's touch on my shoulder. I close the book on automatic, still thrilled with the end of the reading.Suddenly, they're like pieces of a jigsaw puzzle fitting together perfectly.The damn metaphor.Doce Ana is just a woman who needed to be strong when making choices in life. Like me, the protagonist is also an orphan and free spirit.His life is driven by his one true love: his daughter.Which is quite ironic considering that the person who asked me to read this book was someone who didn't ask about his own son.The other book, The Whore's Secret, is on loan to Loretta, but being honest? I don't need to read it to know what decision to make from now on.I already took." Come quickly, Peter is waking up!" Loretta warns me, extremely excited, with tears in her eyes.I notice an atypical movement through the corridors and I recognize some figures like the university president and some students. Before the crowd closes in, I quickly follow Loretta toward the bedroom." Now

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It's eight at night and I feel like I've lived three days in one. My head feels like it weighs a ton with all the thoughts running through my mind all the time.I don't say that my will is to sleep so that the next day comes quickly, because that would be a lie. Perhaps a space-time mess would be very welcome now for me to finally rest my adrenaline brain.I roll over and over in bed and sleep doesn't come. I'm exhausted, tired, dead with farofa, but I can't sleep.I rehearse dialogues with Peter, dialogues with Max, dialogues with Stephen. In some moments, the three of them are together and I think I'm really crazy. You still have messages from Dad, Ethan, and Mellanie to respond to. The conversation with the dean that hasn't happened yet. Will suspended classes remain suspended?There are so many questions, so many question marks. I don't know how to make it stop. I've had soothing tea, I've smoked a joint provided by a fellow hippie downstairs… I've tried literally everything, but

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"A-side, B-sideIt seems like a little bit, but this is not a song by that Brazilian band, Racionais MC's. I wrote a chronicle when I was bored and I remembered the story of a guy I used to date, who was a journalist. I wondered what it would be like if I were a crime reporter, the way I shit with a fear of blood.I remember that we were called to the South American country to cover the case of a murder of a supposedly innocent resident. I say supposed because we must always reject the aura of owners of the truth. We only report the facts as they appear to us. And most of the time, they are incomplete. So supposed. Supposedly resident. Supposedly innocent. The only thing that was certain was that the citizen was dead.We barely arrived and the A-side of the story tried to sway me. “They'll say he's innocent, that he was a resident, oh, it's all a lie, he exchanged fire, you can see there on his side if he doesn't have a gun, it's rubbish”.Apprehensive in the middle of that hostile en

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The beep of the alarm brings me slowly back to life after a deep sleep. Beside me, Loretta is still sleeping like a rock. It's eight in the morning, I'm rested, but I don't feel like getting out of bed, mainly because we know that classes are still suspended until further notice.My first thing in the morning, as it couldn't be any different, is to check my cell phone. Multiple messages.“As far as craziness goes, you surpassed all my expectations yesterday. I just don't like that you left me there alone, and I'm dying for the encore” - Stephen - posted 2 hours ago.Wow, he wakes up early to talk bitching.Next.“Hi, my beautiful. I heard that Peter woke up, I'm very happy. You must be relieved for your friend. How's the reading? If you have abandoned it, no problem. I miss you." - Max - sent 45 minutes ago.Compare the two texts. The "my beautiful" bothers me a little, but I am reluctant to recognize in Max's words some kind of sick manipulation, as described by Stephen.I feel him s

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"Dear diary, friend.I come to thank Cosmos for having answered my request and brought my friend Peter back. Now I just need to make sure he doesn't go down the same path as my mother, who has gone back to that same sad phase so many times.I knew he was a good person the first time I saw him. Our first meeting was very awkward, I suffered a bump that took me to the ground. In return, I gained a friend. A guardian.He's the quiet type, in his own way. But I realize that this is a way of being, that despite being silent, 'screams inside'.Like Loretta, I was also afraid. Fear of Peter dying. Afraid of not having the chance to have a conversation with him anymore. Fear of carrying such guilt. It's unfair and maybe quite selfish, but I can't help it. I was really scared.Now I am facing the thousand possibilities of clarification. The thousand chances of understanding what goes on in your confused head.And I'm still afraid.Afraid of what you will say. How you will react. Afraid to be a

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Two days later…Peter is due to be discharged today after undergoing psychiatric and psychological evaluation. Classes at the university remain suspended and boredom and doldrums take over the campus. Or at least the students who stayed around. The incident ended up providing a mini-vacation for those who took the opportunity to spend the week away from the accommodation.I didn't want to go into detail about what Peter and Loretta talked about after I left on that last visit. It wasn't necessary. Loretta seems at ease with her next steps. She's back to "normal", a girl who knows how to balance dreamy and down-to-earth states well, when necessary. She has a special fondness for Peter, and I sometimes feel that she is suspicious of his supposed feelings for me.I say assumptions because this is also a turning point for me. Peter needs medical help to never make bad decisions again. And the support of true friends, of course." I saw you're reading Randomness, are you enjoying it?"" Oh

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“Aaah, there are days when stress attacks the serene Moniquinha in a unique way! That day I was fed up with the hunch of the aunties who show up twice a year to talk about little pumpkins. On your birthday and at Christmas. Always like this! So, a little poem was born, from the way home to the dentist appointment.they will talkThey will talk.They'll say it's been too fast, that we barely know each other.They'll say that we've been dating for many years, that we're dragging it out - or being bullied.They will say that we are immature.Or that you're too old to marry in white.They'll say that dating a woman who has a child is pierced;They will say that an older woman without a child is pierced.They will also say that having a child is nonsense.Having only one child is also not enough.Having more than one child, are you crazy?Go talk.They'll say you won't handle it.And if you realize it, they'll say it was luck.They will talk, they will talk...I just won't listen.***The

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Like after a long bad dream, after facing several days in the dark, Monday arrives again, with new air, a new glow. Classes resumed, the case was covered in the local press and the movement of students walking all over the campus returned with a vengeance.Peter is still in recovery. His lungs were badly affected by the water he ended up breathing in."Are you going to make it in time for the first period?" Loretta asks, finishing touching up her lipstick.I still need to brush my hair, which, now waist-length, keeps getting knotted.“I just need to stop by the closet in the main hall to get some books. But I'll meet you in the auditorium.“Okay, don't be too late. She winks mischievously.She knows I'm in an internal battle looking forward to seeing Max again after a week of not making contact. After all.It takes me a few minutes to find the key to the little padlock that opens my hall closet. I know it's in some bag, but it's that old story, which one? I turn everything over, find

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I arrive late at the auditorium, but miraculously arrive before the professor. Looks like he had to sign the end of his suspension at the rectory first before he came to teach.Unlike before, I wave to Loretta in the distance and take a seat in one of the last rows, blending in and practically disappearing behind the heads of the taller crowd.There are two reasons for this: I really want to hide from Max's gaze during class. And I arrived late, which makes the first option even more viable, as the first few rows of seats are almost all occupied.Before class starts, I text Stephen. As strange as that sounds, it's part of the plan. My strange plan, to be exact. I think of a phishing-style message, to hook him without him noticing.“I miss you and your class. I wanted to see you today, is there any way?”That's pretty straightforward.The students chat excitedly about the latest events of the week as they wait for Max to arrive. Two minutes later, my phone flashes the new message notif

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