While they enjoy a private night all to themselves, the majority of people are out at bars partying and flirting. At parties, they dance to the rhythm of various songs. Some are embraced, sharing each other's warmth on a bench in a square illuminated by yellow lights, while others lie asleep in their cozy beds.
Whether it's a cardboard bed accompanied by a faithful companion, or one made of foam shared with a fleeting or lifelong love, in Leila's case, she clings to a pillow.
And so, another night fades away. Gradually, the sun's rays invade her room, illuminating her face without permission. Stretching lazily, she slowly wakes up.
Grabbing her phone hidden behind the pillow, she searches for the time while struggling to fully open her eyes. A little past 8 a.m., it reads in a small corner. All that remains for her is to get up.
In her thoughts, Sarah is still asleep. So, she decides to prepare breakfast with several treats her daughter loves. This way, they can enjoy a pleasant Saturday morning where neither of them has anything to do—just lounging around the house or anywhere else, indulging in the luxury of laziness.
Breakfast was served and quickly devoured. Amidst many conversations and jokes, the morning slips away unnoticed—except for the sun, which takes its place at the center of everything, above all who dare to look up.
And just like a great game from her favorite team, lunch—featuring a carefully prepared lasagna, rice, and potatoes—is savored as if it were an insurmountable victory. Leila doesn't miss the chance to enjoy a buttery drink with a slight alcoholic touch. Sarah even tries to take a sip, but all she's allowed is a good, old-fashioned glass of water.
Of course, afternoon coffee couldn't be forgotten. Homemade bread bought from a lady who lives nearby was the highlight this time. Soft, brushed lightly with milk on top, and baked in a wood-fired stove rarely used these days. The two continue chatting idly; Sarah shares stories from her week—not all of them.
Leila enjoys listening to them but doesn't miss the opportunity to share one of her own. This time, she recounts her time in the Fiore Archipelago and later among the monks in the Redemption Mountains. She talks about their strange habits and even the feeling that something more existed there than could be imagined. Classic of an archaeologist—to dream of the forgotten wonders buried by time.
She even recalls that one day she plans to take Sarah to see her greatest discovery in person, which became her most cherished gift. She explains that the monks refuse to let it be removed, standing guard to prevent anyone unworthy from uncovering those secrets.
These words strike a chord deep within Sarah's heart, already imagining herself among monks meditating and exploring mountains, discovering more about the world and herself.
Night falls, and Leila is by the stove finishing up a special dinner for her husband, who is returning from a trip today.
"What's with that face, Mom? It's like you saw something on the wall."
"I think I'm forgetting something."
"Normal. I don't know how you haven't lost your mind yet."
Leila narrows her eyes at Sarah, thinking of ways to "torture" her. Taking advantage of Sarah turning toward the fridge, she attacks her from behind. Sarah doesn't resist much and bursts into laughter. Leila knows all her weak spots.
At that moment, the door opens, and after a few seconds of footsteps through the house, there stands the long-awaited guest of the evening.
Hair combed back, short on the sides, almost shaved. A stubbly, neatly trimmed beard. Greenish eyes observe the two having fun, though his expression seems distant, lost in thought.
"What a surprise!" Leila notices him watching them.
"Huh? AAA! Dad…" Sarah runs to him and gives him a warm welcome hug. "How was your trip?"
"It was productive. We closed many deals," Júlio responds in his firm, distinctive voice while glancing at Leila approaching him.
"I'm glad everything went well. We're just finishing up dinner." Leila greets him with a quick kiss on the lips as she finishes speaking.
"I smelled it from the street, and it smelled good, but now I think something might be burning!" He ends his sentence by sniffing the air slightly.
"For heaven's sake, Júlio! I would never let my food bu—" Leila playfully taps his shoulder while speaking but is interrupted.
"No, Mom! I think it really is burning!" Sarah joins her father in confirming his suspicion as she takes steps toward the stove.
Leila sniffs the air and quickly heads to the pot of rice. Upon lifting the lid, the faint smell of burning becomes intense. She relaxes her shoulders in disappointment, looks toward Júlio and Sarah with a furrowed brow and her mouth puckered to the right.
Faced with this scene, neither Sarah nor her father can contain themselves and burst into laughter.
After improvising some meat, eggs, salad, and a few potatoes, everyone feels satisfied with the reunion and the evening. This atmosphere lingers through the rest of the night and extends into Sunday, now bolstered by Júlio's presence. He also shares a few stories about minor intrigues between executives and corporations, though they aren't particularly thrilling.
A family. That's the feeling that fills Sarah whenever she pauses to reflect on her surroundings and the moment she's in.
A warm comfort that would soon shatter.