An officer reviewed the basic documents, without yet touching anything related to the expert report. In the blue folder were ultrasound scans, a copy of the preliminary accident report, and a medical note that Marcos didn’t understand.
The time didn’t match.
It wasn’t conclusive proof. It wasn’t an indictment. But it was a crack. And sometimes an investigation begins exactly like that, with a small number that refuses to fit.
Ana Clara was rushed to Hospital das Clínicas. Marcos got into the ambulance without asking permission. No one dared to make him get out. During the journey, he held his wife’s cold hand and spoke with Miguel.
“Hang on, son,” he whispered. “Your dad is here.”
The sound of the machinery mingled with the siren. Every curve seemed like a threat. Every traffic light added another second between Ana Clara’s death and the possibility of saving her son.
