Morning had slipped over the city without her noticing.
Catarina hadn't slept either.
Her eyes burned, her skin felt too heavy.
Her whole body still bore the traces of a silence she couldn't understand.
She got up late, after spending the night staring at the ceiling.
The phone on the coffee table remained silent.
No messages.
No calls.
Just this emptiness that stretched out, wider and wider.
She finally got up and dragged her bare feet to the kitchen.
The smell of coffee made her nauseous.
She forced herself to pour some, but the first sip tasted like iron.
She put the cup down immediately.
Her notebook was waiting for her on the counter.
Open to the page from the day before.
Those few words, scribbled in haste, seemed to taunt her:
"I'm back. But not whole."
She picked up the pen, tried to add something, but the tip remained suspended in midair.
Nothing came.
Just this dull, strange pain, nestled somewhere below her ribs.
A vibrating noise made her jump.
The phone.
A name.
Althéa.
Her heart tightened so much that for a moment she thought she couldn't breathe.
She picked up the phone.
Silence, at first.
Then a trembling voice:
"Tell me the truth."
Catarina froze.
"What truth are you talking about?"
"The one that bears my father's name."
The world seemed to stop.
She couldn't breathe.
For a second, she thought her heart was going to stop beating.
"Althéa... I..."
"Don't lie, the voice cut her off.
Not this time."
Catarina felt her legs give way.
She sat down on the floor, her back against the wall, the phone pressed against her ear.
Tears welled up without warning.
"I never wanted to hurt you," she whispered.
Never."
"Then why?"
Catarina closed her eyes.
The words died in her throat.
Because he looked at me like no one else ever had.
Because I thought it was stronger than the world.
Because I was stupid.
But all she could manage to say was:
"It's complicated."
"No. It's simple. You loved him."
Silence.
Then, almost imperceptibly:
"And he loved you too."
Althéa hung up before she could reply.
The sharp sound of the call ending echoed through the room like a slap.
Catarina stood there, motionless, the phone between her fingers.
Silence returned, but it was no longer soothing.
It was a judgmental silence, a burning silence.
She finally got up, staggering.
Her head was spinning.
A sudden wave of dizziness overtook her.
She had to lean against the wall to keep from falling.
Her breathing became short and irregular.
It took her several minutes to regain her balance.
Then she walked to the bathroom.
The cold water on her face did nothing to calm her.
Her reflection in the mirror stared back at her with an expression she didn't recognize.
Fatigue. Guilt. And something else.
A tremor.
An echo.
Something that wasn't just grief.
She leaned against the sink.
A thought crossed her mind, so violent that it made her feel nauseous.
No... not that. Not now.
But her body already knew.
It had been trying to tell her for a few days.
She had just ignored it.
And suddenly, everything took on a different meaning.
The delay.
The fatigue.
The dizziness.
She closed her eyes, her hands clenched on the cold edge.
"No, she whispered.
Not you. Not from him."
But the truth was already creeping in, slow and relentless.
Like the snow outside.
Silent.
Inevitable.