Beatriz and Bianca were beside her.
Laura stood farther back.
Julia watched nervously.
And little Isabela peeked from behind the curtain.
“Another victim,” Mariana whispered.
Bianca giggled.
“How long?”
“Twenty minutes,” Beatriz said.
“Ten,” Bianca replied.
Mariana shook her head.
“Don’t underestimate her.”
Downstairs, Luía entered the house.
Augusto greeted her first.
“Ms. Oliveira?”
“Yes.”
“I’m Augusto.”
She shook his hand.
“Nice to meet you.”
He looked uncomfortable.
“I should warn you.”
“About the girls?”
He nodded.
Luía looked around.
The mansion was enormous.
But despite the expensive furniture and spotless floors, it didn’t feel luxurious.
It felt sad.
There were photographs everywhere.
Most of them showed the same woman.
Claris.
Smiling.
Holding babies.
Standing beside Ricardo.
Laughing with the girls.
Luía stopped in front of one photograph.
All six daughters were crowded around their mother.
Claris was laughing.
The girls looked happy.
Luía stared at the picture for several seconds.
