Chapter 3 How did you find my number

Jessica

"Mom, when is Aunt Nanda coming back from her trip?"

Valentina helped me with the dishes. My daughter was now six years old, smart, intelligent, and observant. I still lived in the same neighborhood as when I became pregnant. After years of living in Rio de Janeiro, I had grown accustomed to the Marvelous City. Nanda had left me in charge of the house, only asking me to cover the water and electricity bills. My friend was following the path I couldn't take due to my unexpected pregnancy. And now, two years later, I believed that Valentina was the miracle in my life, placed there by destiny to bring about real change. I was living a normal life, raising my daughter alone, far away from everything that reminded me of my dirty past. I still worked at the same beauty clinic, but now I was a college graduate, thanks to a scholarship I had obtained at a private university. Fernanda had encouraged me to pursue this profession, even though she told me I could earn much more by continuing my work in Rio de Janeiro. However, because of my daughter, moving to Europe as my friend had done was out of the question.

Fernanda worked in partnership with Juliana, the owner of a modeling agency that recruited girls for parties with politicians and now also represented women for international work. I was against this line of work, but Fernanda argued that the money she made deceiving young girls was something she could never achieve, even if she worked for 20 years. I didn't agree, despite all the things I had done when I was younger. After my daughter's birth, my mindset and outlook on life had changed.

"Your aunt stays only for the year-end parties, sweetheart. Then, she'll return to Europe, as I've explained to you."

With all the dishes put away, hand in hand with my daughter, we went to watch the children's soap opera before she fell asleep. I was getting ready for my graduation, which was scheduled for next month. The year was coming to an end, and I wished for nothing but good things. Valentina was about to enter the first grade. She could read and write like a 10-year-old. Her intelligence had surprised even the teachers when I enrolled her in the local daycare. Now, she attended school in the afternoon since my boss, understanding my situation as a single mother, had decided to let me work only part-time. On the days I needed to stay late, our neighbor's daughter picked up Valentina from school and took care of her at her home.

"Mom, did you know that at school, parents will be able to dance with their kids?" Hearing what my daughter said, I tried to hide the sadness in my voice that always surfaced when the topic of her father came up in our conversations. To Valentina, her father was dead. Whenever anyone asked, I would lie and say he was a criminal who died during a favela raid where Fernanda lived. When I registered her, I had to convince the clerk to list her father as unknown on the birth certificate. The truth about her paternity was a secret only Fernanda and I knew. My friend kept bringing up the same topic, saying that I shouldn't deny my daughter the luxury and wealth her father's family possessed. However, revealing the truth would reopen wounds that had long since healed in my heart. He was no longer just a wealthy doctor; he now held a position of power and lived a good life. At least, that's what the media portrayed. Always with his overbearing mother or alone at events shown on television. Many times, I found myself wondering if he still loved Viviane after all these years. From what I knew, Pedro and Viviane were living happily in Estrela Guia with their two children. Fernanda was the one who discovered everything for me, including the illness my aunt had, though I couldn't find it in my heart to feel sorry given what had happened between us.

"I'll be by your side on your graduation day, my love," I kissed the top of her head, trying not to cry.

"I wish my dad were alive to dance with me. My friend said she has a new dad, that her mom got married again. Only you never get married."

"Your mom doesn't want to get married, and I've already told you that this kind of conversation isn't for young ladies," I pointed to the television, showing the scene in the soap opera. We watched everything until it was time to put Valentina to bed. We went through our nightly ritual-after brushing her teeth, she put on her pajamas, and I lay down beside her until she fell asleep. Carefully, I left her room and went to the kitchen to make hot chocolate in an attempt to fall asleep later. I glanced at the kitchen clock; it was almost eleven at night. I grabbed my mug and returned to the living room, turning on the TV to some random channel. My phone lay on the couch. I noticed it vibrating with a call from São Paulo. I tried to avoid answering any calls as much as possible, but Fernanda had informed me that she was waiting for a response from a girl she had met in Santos. I answered with a somewhat rude "hello."

Upon hearing the male voice on the other end of the line, I didn't recognize him at first. It was only after he said my name that I identified the mysterious man.

"Jessica, don't hang up; I know it's you," the man spoke, and I swallowed hard. If he knew my number, he surely knew where I lived, and it was only a matter of time before he showed up at my door.

"How did you find my number?" I asked, as for so many years, I had managed to stay hidden without anyone knowing.

"A little birdie spilled the beans, and it wasn't hard to put two and two together to find you. Now, I need you to listen to me, even if you don't want to."

"I have nothing to say, nothing to listen to, and no one here in this city to worry about," I replied, preparing to end the call.

"I don't know how things between you and Maria have come to this point. What you need to know is that your aunt is dying. I know you're aware of her health condition, and yet, all these years, you've never reached out to her. What you need to understand now is that Maria doesn't have much time left, as the disease has spread to other parts of her body."

I heard about the situation that Aunt Maria was in, unable to believe that the woman who had once boasted so much was now dying of cancer because she hadn't sought treatment when she should have.

"Pedro, honestly, I can't do anything to help my aunt. She chose this path, and I'm living my life here in Rio de Janeiro. I have no plans to return."

I stated, trying to end the call before I regretted it. But then Pedro said something that would change my life completely.

"Maria already suspected this, but she needs to ask for your forgiveness for something she did to you in the past. Know that I'm doing this for my wife and Sofia. Both of them insisted that I find you and bring you back. Maybe then Maria can pass away peacefully after you forgive her."

Upon hearing the last sentence, my heart softened, and reluctantly, I agreed. Before ending the call, I warned that I couldn't travel immediately; I still needed to take care of a few things before returning. Valentina was the main concern-I didn't want anyone to know about my daughter, let alone have those people look at me with pity for returning years later with a child born out of wedlock.

"If you're referring to your daughter, there's no need to hide the child. I know you had a daughter with a drug dealer, or at least that's what you say. So, if the child is the issue, know that I'm aware of your entire life in Rio de Janeiro. I understand that she's still in school, so I'll wait for you to settle everything before calling me, and then you can return to São Paulo."

Pedro ended the call, asking me to save his contact in my phone and to call if I needed anything. I sat there in that room, lost and unsure of what to do. I had been found, and Pedro, and probably Viviane, knew about my daughter. How would I return to São Paulo, even if only for a few days, without my past coming back to haunt me once again?