⚠️ WARNING ⚠️
The following chapter may contain imagery that is extremely
explicit, as well as allusions that address themes which are
highly—very highly—controversial and complex for the audience
of WebNovel 📚, for any other platform 🌐, and for all types
of social media 📱
The author does not seek to be sensationalist, pretentious,
or morbid 🚫👁️🗨️. This work is not written for shock value.
Everything narrated here is fiction ✍️
Reader discretion is strongly advised 🙏
📝✨ AUTHOR'S NOTE ✨📝
Guys, happy New Year 🎉🎆
I couldn't upload a chapter earlier because I've entered
a very difficult stage of writing 😮💨✍️, especially when
it comes to Polemos ton Agion ⚔️📖
I have several chapters already set aside 📂, but I need
to handle them with extreme care 🩹👐 so that, when I move
into the rewrite phase, I don't complicate things further.
I've also changed my mind about making a webcomic 🎨📱.
I'm going to create a graphic novel instead 📘🖤
It's much simpler, but I want it to be detailed enough 🔍🖋️
so I won't regret it later 😔➡️🙂
I'll still be publishing it on GlobalComix 🌍📚, and I'm
already adapting Chapter One 🛠️📄
Drawing cherubim is difficult 😵💫👼
Believe me, it's something I wouldn't wish on any artist 🎨💀
Thank you for your patience, guys 🙏❤️
I'll keep you updated 📣✨
________________________________________________________
"Hear my voice, O Jehovah, when I cry out to You;
have mercy on me, and answer me."
"Do not hide Your face from me;
do not turn Your servant away in anger;
You have been my help.
Do not leave me nor forsake me,
O God of my salvation.
For my father and my mother have forsaken me,
but Jehovah will take me in.
I would have lost heart
had I not believed that I would see the goodness
of Jehovah in the land of the living."
— Psalms 27:7–13
____________________________________
No one explained to Teodoro how he was supposed
to feel, nor what he was meant to think.
They only asked him precise questions,
each one weighted with evasive intent.
Several days had passed since the end,
and yet his mind remained fixed on uncertainty.
Not because of what was said in the room,
but because of what was never fully understood.
The real world has an uncomfortable habit:
it decides far from those who will bear the damage.
Sometimes out of ignorance.
Other times, simply because there is no heart.
The air in the park was warm and calm,
a calm detached from what both of them kept silent.
Helena and Teodoro sat beneath an old olive tree,
speaking about a matter they barely understood.
Only one truth remained untouched:
the judgment had been lost.
And with that sentence,
Teodoro's fate slipped out of his hands.
"Teodoro, stay calm," Helena said in a low voice.
"I already have a solution."
"What solution?" he replied, confused.
"Just wait a little, all right? I'm with you,
and you know perfectly well that I'll stay
by your side, always.
Because that isn't just my job… it's my desire.
I'm not going to leave you."
"All right, Helena…" murmured Teodoro, almost voiceless.
Although Helena proposed solutions, deep down
she already knew which one was the only possible choice.
Even so, she preferred to think about anything else.
Too many thoughts crowded her mind,
and facing situations this delicate
had never been her strength.
Even she herself felt that any movement,
no matter how small, could turn
into an irreversible mistake.
Several days earlier, Helena had received a message.
The angel spoke to her with authority:
"God wishes for you to take Teodoro away from here.
Leave no note, leave no trace.
Do it as quickly as possible, even today."
"But I can't," Helena replied, trembling.
"I have to wait for the judicial process.
I can't take him away from his family
as if nothing mattered.
What if there's still a chance?
What if he can go with his uncle?"
The angel interrupted her:
"God has already issued His sentence.
He knows Teodoro better than you do.
Helena, obey.
Do not make Galton's mistake."
It was at that moment that the angel vanished.
From then on, the celestial presence withdrew.
Even so, when she recalled what had happened,
she had no idea how she could ever
explain something like that to Teodoro.
Despite this, she tried to assess the situation
with the greatest care possible.
*"Should I listen to what the angel told me?
If I don't prepare properly, everything will go wrong.
Still… we could escape right now
and no one would notice.
It would be the most plausible option.
But going all the way to the border…
Honestly, I've only brushed past a bullet once,
and I know I can't face another.
I'm not as fast as Galton."*
"The problem is Teodoro. He's blind."
"He needs his medication, rest… and his books.
All of that is too much.
Too much for him."
"And perhaps, even too much for me."
Helena knew she had to decide.
And in her heart, she understood they had to escape.
First, there were the sealed documents:
they confirmed that custody of Teodoro
would pass to his uncle Joaquim, not to strangers.
That was enough.
Helena chose to act.
"Teodoro, listen to me carefully," she said,
holding her voice steady.
"I have to leave."
He remained completely still.
"Just for two days," she added at once.
"I need to prepare for what I'm about to do.
Wait for me, all right? Two days. I'll come back for you."
Teodoro's face tightened instantly.
Fear pierced through him without warning.
He had never felt anything like it.
"Calm down," Helena whispered, stepping closer.
"I'm going to disappear for a couple of days…
but I'll come back. I'll get you out of here."
"All right…" Teodoro replied, his voice breaking.
But when Helena let go of his hands,
something inside his chest collapsed.
It was like trying to climb toward the truth
and suddenly realizing
that the one who had always held him up
was also capable of letting go.
Fear moved faster than thought.
"No!" he blurted out.
"Helena, please don't go.
Don't do this."
His breathing turned erratic.
The air was no longer enough.
Helena cupped his face with both hands
and kissed him with an urgent gentleness,
as if that single gesture could give him back his calm.
"Wait for me here, please," she said.
"Nona is coming, all right?"
"All right…" Teodoro murmured,
trying to steady himself.
Nona didn't notice anything.
She was approaching from afar, unaware of it all.
"I'm coming, I'm coming!"
Helena stood up immediately.
"Ma'am, excuse me," she said respectfully.
"I'm going to have to be away for about two days."
"Why?" Nona asked, uneasy.
"I need you, please."
"Please understand, it's something necessary,"
Helena replied.
"I'm only asking for two days. Nothing more."
Nona sighed and nodded.
"All right. I'll see who Teodoro stays with.
Thank you very much for everything, Helena."
"No, thank you, Nona."
Helena took a few steps away.
"God… what do I do now?" she whispered,
almost without a voice.
Nona sat beside Teodoro,
wrapped her arms around him, and murmured gently:
"I want you to know that we're doing everything
we can to make you happy."
She was trying to hide the situation.
She didn't know that Teodoro already knew the truth.
He remained silent.
He said nothing.
Then it happened.
The uncle had arrived. Joaquim.
"Very well, young Teodoro," he said.
"The time has come."
"What do you mean, the time has come?"
Helena asked, nervous.
"He will be your legal guardian, all right?"
"Please, let me go with him," Nona begged.
Joaquim smiled faintly.
"Of course. Just have him come."
And so it happened.
Joaquim had been granted full guardianship.
The father had left behind a signed letter,
relinquishing legal custody before leaving the country.
Faced with that document, the judge ruled
that Joaquim was fit to care for the boy:
he had a home, a stable job,
and lived in a safe area of Lisbon.
Moreover, his charisma and manner of speaking
easily persuaded the court.
Teodoro had no choice.
When Nona entered that man's house,
she saw refined things… and others not so much.
Teodoro felt uncomfortable, out of place.
"I didn't like my dad…
but now that I think about it,
I'd rather be with him than with my uncle.
There's something in his voice that unsettles me."
"I don't know why they say he's a bad person,
but this…"
At the table sat several adults:
Joaquim, Nona, lawyers,
and social workers.
They were discussing the situation.
This would not be the last meeting.
The old house in Odivelas had already been sold.
With it, any possible refuge was gone as well.
Teodoro understood that everything was changing,
and that he had no one left to turn to.
Not even Hélder.
Not because he didn't want to,
but because the paperwork said otherwise.
The judge recognized only Joaquim.
And to Joaquim,
any mention of Hélder
brought an uncomfortable silence.
After long hours, one by one,
the lawyers and economists
left the house.
The voices faded away.
The place felt strange, far too large.
The last to leave was Nona.
She approached Teodoro slowly,
as if each step weighed more than the last.
She looked at him with tenderness,
with that look that only appears
when there is nothing left to be done.
"Young Teodoro, I want you to know
that I love you with all my heart."
The boy hugged her tightly,
clinging to the only affection he had left.
"Mom… please, don't leave me."
That word shattered everything.
Nona broke down.
He hadn't called her Nona, but Mom.
"Teodoro, I'm sorry, but I have to go, all right?
Please don't cry.
I'll come back tomorrow, okay?"
From a distance, Joaquim watched the scene in silence.
Nona stayed holding him for a few more minutes,
as if she wanted to memorize that moment.
But when she finally let him go,
Teodoro felt an immense emptiness.
Everything had happened so fast
that he couldn't even process it.
Then he heard footsteps approaching.
Joaquim stopped in front of him.
"You really do look like a little girl," he said,
looking him up and down with a mocking air.
"My sister wasn't wrong."
"Very well, Teodoro. You'll be staying here.
I'll show you your room. I have your medication,
and a few other things as well."
"A tutor will come to teach you what you need.
You should be grateful to me."
"I care about you so much that I decided
to bring in a tutor
so you can receive a proper education."
Teodoro remained silent.
He didn't trust him. His body trembled,
not only because of what that man represented,
but also because of what he could not yet understand.
Confused images crossed his mind:
his mother, his father, the companies
they had never mentioned, his uncle, Nona,
Hélder's warning, and above all, Helena.
She had said she would escape with him.
"She said we would go to the house in Odivelas,
but they already sold it."
Meanwhile, Nona was heading to a friend's house,
near Olivais.
She carried only the essentials,
just enough not to raise questions.
She did not look back.
Elsewhere in the city, Helena moved between shelves.
The library was almost empty.
She entered through one of the high windows,
carefully, without making a sound.
She chose the books one by one.
No more than twelve.
The ones she knew Teodoro would want to hear.
Nothing else.
She placed them all into a single bag.
With divine strength on her side,
no one noticed her presence.
No one saw her leave.
She simply vanished into the shadows.
Night had already fallen.
In Joaquim's house, another housekeeper served dinner.
She was a girl no older than seventeen.
"Here you go, young sir," she said,
placing a plate of pasta in front of Teodoro.
He thanked her with a slight gesture
and began to eat in silence.
Joaquim passed behind her.
Far too close.
His hand settled on the girl's hip
as if it belonged there.
"After this, you'll stop by my room for a while,"
he said, with a smile that asked for no permission.
"All right, my love?"
The girl shuddered.
Her hands trembled.
The tray nearly slipped from her grasp.
From the hallway, Joaquim raised his voice:
"Teodoro, you can go to your room.
You guide him yourself.
And then you come to mine, is that clear?"
She nodded without looking at him.
She obeyed.
She was afraid.
Very afraid.
She knew perfectly well
what that man was capable of.
He had been married once.
Then came the divorce.
No one knew whether he had children.
At least, no one spoke about it.
The maid led Teodoro to his room.
By Joaquim's order,
she locked the door behind him.
"For your safety," she said,
though she didn't believe it herself.
The room had its own bathroom.
There would be no need to leave.
Teodoro sat down on the bed.
He traced the walls with his gaze,
trying to understand the boundaries
of his new confinement.
This time, the loneliness was different.
Heavier.
More final.
He ran his hand along one of the pieces of furniture.
Then he heard something
on the other side of the wall.
Teodoro sat on the bed, looking around.
"Well…" he murmured to himself.
"I don't know if it's like the other house, but…
it's strange."
The room was clean, orderly.
Too orderly.
"I don't like it," he continued in a low voice.
"I feel like I'm in a prison."
He thought of his old house.
The garden.
The stacked firewood.
The ducks wandering without direction.
The smell of damp earth, but alive.
None of that existed here.
"This is an apartment…" he whispered.
"It smells like moisture."
He pulled the covers over himself slowly,
as if settling in might make him feel
less out of place.
He looked at the sky through the window,
searching for something familiar.
Then he heard it.
At first, it was barely a sound.
An irregular noise, broken and uneven.
It came from the other room.
Teodoro frowned.
He recognized the voice.
It was the girl who had locked him in.
They were sobs.
But not entirely.
There was something else.
A desperate attempt not to make noise.
A muffled moan.
A scream that never quite became a scream.
The creak of a bed.
Teodoro's hearing sharpened
without him choosing it.
Something was wrong.
Fear pierced through him, dry and motionless.
He didn't fully understand what was happening…
but his body did.
He heard how she tried to silence herself.
How the silence grew heavy, dense,
almost violent.
There was one sound in particular.
One that felt disturbingly familiar to him.
He didn't want to think about why.
Teodoro didn't get up.
He stayed seated.
Then he lay back down.
He pulled the covers up to his neck,
as if that could somehow protect him.
He closed his eyes and pretended to sleep.
In his mind, only one thought remained:
"Helena, I don't know if you'll find me here.
But I think you left me too.
Everyone usually does.
My mom. My dad. Nona.
They say they don't want to, but they leave anyway.
Maybe I'm not made for love."
He sighed.
He ran a hand through his hair and murmured:
"At least my uncle didn't cut it.
I don't know if that's a good thing… or a bad one."
Meanwhile, Helena took a train bound for Odivelas.
She didn't know the house had already been sold.
Three days had passed since she left Lisbon,
and yet she still felt something calling her back.
"I have to go to that house.
Get my letters back.
Teodoro's clothes, his books,
his medication…
and I can't forget his flutes."
Helena was so focused
on all those almost insignificant details
that she remembered what the angel had told her:
"It's your decision, even if you take
as long as you need."
"No," she whispered.
"I have to do it quickly."
She had taken nearly the last train.
Night had already fallen when she arrived.
As she entered the house, she realized something:
it was empty… but the things were still there.
She climbed in carefully through the kitchen window.
Silence greeted her first.
Then, absence.
Several pieces of furniture were already gone.
Helena took one more step, and her heart lurched.
"…This wasn't like this," she murmured.
"No."
She looked around, incredulous.
"This can't be…" she whispered.
"They sold the house."
The air caught in her chest.
"Wait… they took things."
Not everything.
Not everything.
"The orbs!"
The thought struck her like a blow.
"Damn it…"
She ran toward her room,
without turning on the lights, without thinking.
The floor creaked beneath her steps,
the house seemed to be watching her.
She knelt by the corner and lifted the loose board.
They were there.
The orbs.
Relief made her legs go weak.
"Thank God…" she whispered,
pressing a hand to her chest.
"Helena, next time put them in your pocket…
don't be an idiot."
She let out a small, nervous laugh.
"I thought that—"
She didn't finish the sentence.
Even though the danger was gone,
a chill ran down her spine.
The house felt different.
As if everything had simply lost
its shine.
As if this home no longer belonged to her.
And something inside her told her
that she didn't have much time left.
So the first thing she did was look for
Teodoro's backpack,
the one he took to school,
and began packing every piece of clothing
that would fit inside.
She packed in a hurry, without looking back.
Shirts, pants. She only took the two pairs of shoes
that looked the most presentable.
Helena also packed the dresses
the angels had given her.
She put everything into a single bag,
as if she were stealing.
But then she noticed something.
As she went through so many things, she realized
that the door to Nona's bedroom was open…
and so was the other door,
the one they were never supposed to enter.
Curiosity got the better of her,
and Helena knew it instantly.
"Well… I'm going to do something reasonable,"
she murmured softly.
"I'll go into Nona's room.
Maybe she has some of Teodoro's things there,
and I also want to see that other door
I never opened.
If they're going to sell this house,
it's worth knowing what's inside."
She entered carefully,
as if the place could hear her breathing.
The room was intact.
Too orderly to be empty.
She rummaged through drawers, old papers,
and nameless memories,
until her fingers touched a forgotten box
at the very back.
Inside were letters.
Many of them.
All of them came from France.
Her stomach clenched instantly.
Then she remembered a conversation
from two days earlier, when Teodoro was bathing
and Nona spoke carelessly:
Teodoro's mother wrote from a tavern in France,
a place that existed only to send letters, nothing more.
They were never able to find her.
There was never a real address.
Helena frowned, sensing that something didn't fit.
"Wasn't Teodoro's mother supposed to be hospitalized?"
That was what Nona had said,
never once hesitating.
"Then… why France? Why a tavern?"
Nothing made sense.
"Maybe I heard it wrong…"
She wanted to believe that,
even though something inside her resisted.
But curiosity no longer let her go.
She took the letters. She read them. One.
Then another. And one more.
She spent almost the entire night awake,
reading them one by one, unable to stop,
until she ran out of words and excuses alike.
When she finished, she paced back and forth
across the room, trying to calm herself,
trying to sort through what she had uncovered.
She couldn't.
Indignation burned in her chest.
"Now everything makes sense…"
Helena whispered, trembling.
"Holy shit."
She raised her voice, unable to hold back
any longer.
"All this time they've been lying to Teodoro?
No… no, no!
Oh my God! What is this?
What is wrong with this family?
This is bullshit! How could they do this?
This can't be true."
Hours later, she was still examining them.
There were many letters addressed
to Nona and to Teodoro's father,
but she found something else:
five other sealed letters,
never opened, addressed to Teodoro,
from his mother.
"Teodoro can't know the truth," she said.
"Teodoro can't know."
She looked at them one last time
and took them.
She put the box away carefully,
as if she had never opened it.
She left the room neat,
so no one would suspect a thing.
Then she packed everything:
the coats, the backpack, and the letters.
She placed them inside carefully,
so they wouldn't wrinkle.
She went far away from there.
She buried the bags with the belongings,
leaving only the tips visible
to remember the place.
It was still before dawn.
Helena was completely shaken.
"My mother may have had her mistakes,
but Teodoro's mother…"
"No… comparing my mother's mistakes
to those of this woman is absurd.
Teodoro doesn't deserve this."
"What am I going to do?"
"God… what should I do?"
Helena couldn't think clearly,
so she simply stared at the sky
and thought the following:
"Did you ask me to take Teodoro out of here,
didn't you?"
*"If that's the case, then… I'll take Teodoro
out of here, and I'll bring him to Vermont…"
"But, God, may I ask you something…"
"Tell me why I feel abandoned."
"I miss my mother. I know how Teodoro feels…
Galton told me my mother died…
and now Teodoro's mother is gone too…"
She spoke out loud in the middle of the darkness,
gazing at the light of the stars.
"Tell me, God, why do we have to go through this?
What fault did my mother have, what fault does Teodoro have?
Why did you choose us? I'm just stupid, an idiot!
I don't know anything at all! It hurts not knowing anything…"
"This is too much…"
"I just want to go back home…"
"I just want to see my mom again…"
"God, what did I do…"
"What did Teodoro do!"
"Why!"
"Why do I feel like this…"
"Why do you make me cry…"
"Why did you bring me to Lisboa…"
"It's been almost months since I've tried
to live without thinking about what I lost…"
"I can't…"
"I can't… I'm scared…"
Helena knelt after saying this,
breaking down onto the ground. She felt a deep sorrow
as she faced the truth: Teodoro had lived deceived
for four years. She couldn't say it aloud, and she also
felt guilty for what awaited him…
She was hurting too, trapped in her own grief.
She knew nothing. She didn't even know
why she was really here.
She was only eighteen years old.
She had no father, no mother, no siblings.
In a foreign country, without money.
Alone.
Barely waiting for some kind of comfort.
She didn't know how to express what she felt,
much less how to ask for it.
But then the path lit up,
like a sign of destiny.
Helena lifted her gaze
and saw what seemed like God illuminating her
through the glow of the moon,
while the clouds cast shadows
over a perfect road.
And a familiar voice said:
"Helena, go get Teodoro."
Helena stood up, wiped her tears,
looked up at the sky and silently said:
"Teodoro, you are a wonderful boy…"
"I'm going to take you out of this hell
and bring you with me…"
"Just be patient with me
if I'm a little stupid…"
"No…"
"The truth is, I'm only stupid with you…"
Helena ran,
with fierce determination,
toward Lisboa, as the moonlight faded away,
making room for the glow of dawn.