One year ago, in the real world
Porto, 4:00 PM
The golden hues of the evening sun stretched over the city as Maria stood outside São Rafael Primary School, waiting for her son. The school bell rang, and soon, a rush of children poured through the gates, their laughter echoing through the streets. Among them was Tomas, her eight-year-old boy, his bright brown eyes gleaming with joy as he spotted her.
"Mãe!" he called out, running into her arms. Maria knelt to hug him, inhaling the familiar scent of his little uniform.
"How was school today, meu amor?" she asked, brushing his dark curls away from his forehead.
"It was amazing!" Tomas beamed. "I played football with Miguel and Rui, and guess what? My teacher gave me an A in drawing!" He fumbled with his schoolbag and pulled out a crumpled piece of paper. It was a childlike sketch...messy, but full of warmth.
Maria smiled. "It's beautiful, my love. You have such talent!"
"I want to be a famous artist one day, Mãe! A world-famous artist!" He clutched her hand tightly, eyes twinkling with excitement. "And when I become famous, do you know the first thing I'll paint?"
Maria shook her head, amused.
"Your fists!" Tomas giggled. "Because when you're angry, they look so funny! Like this!" He clenched his little hands, imitating her frustrated expressions.
Maria burst into laughter and pulled him into a tight embrace. "You little rascal!" she whispered, kissing his forehead. "Now tell me, what do you want for dinner?"
"Hmm....…" Tomas tapped his chin dramatically. "I want Frango Piri-Piri! The spicy one!"
Maria chuckled. "Alright, let's go home and cook it together."
She led him toward their car, parked just across Rua de cedofeita, a relatively quiet street at this hour. The air smelled of wet pavement, a storm brewing in the distance.
Just as she opened the car door, the distant roar of engines tore through the street. Two vehicles.....one a battered black BMW, the other a dark gray Mercedes.....came barreling down the road, weaving dangerously through traffic.
"Tomas, stay close," Maria warned, gripping his tiny hand tighter.
Then...screeching tires. Gunfire. A sharp crack split the air.
The black BMW swerved, its tires skidding across the pavement. The world blurred in slow motion as Maria yanked Tomas toward her, but it was too late.
A deafening thud.
The force tore his small hand from hers.
Tomas's body was thrown forward, hitting the cold asphalt with a sickening sound.
Through the broken glass, Maria saw it...a burning leaf tattoo on the back of the driver's hand.
For a moment, silence. Then Maria's scream pierced the evening air.
People froze. Some ran. Teachers, parents, bystanders. A few rushed forward while others scrambled away in terror.
Maria fell to her knees, cradling Tomas's bloodied form. His little chest shuddered with weak, shallow breaths.
"No, no, no...Tomas, meu amor, stay with me!" She pressed her hands against his wound, but the blood....so much of it.....kept spilling through her fingers, warm and sticky.
The sky rumbled. Then came the rain.
It poured heavily, washing away the blood, sending crimson streams into the gutters.
Police sirens wailed in the distance, but the black BMW was already gone.
Santa Maria Hospital, 8:00 PM
The hospital walls were suffocating.....sterile and devoid of warmth. The harsh fluorescent lights buzzed overhead as Maria and her husband, João, stood outside the emergency room.
Maria's clothes were drenched.....rain and blood clinging to her skin. She clutched João's arms so tightly that her nails dug into his flesh.
Then the doors swung open.
A doctor stepped out, his face grim.
"I'm sorry," he said quietly. "We did everything we could."
Maria collapsed. A sound escaped her lips—broken, raw, inhuman.
João caught her, his own face crumpling as he pulled her into his arms.
In that moment, they weren't adults. They weren't husband and wife.
"No, you're lying. My son would never leave me. He can't even walk without holding my hand. You're lying.....my son is still alive! He'll listen to me if I call him!" Maria broke free and rushed into the room.
"Hey, Tomas, wake up! Aren't you a good boy? I'll make your favorite food.....please answer me! I'll tell you bedtime stories again, just like the old days. I'll hold your hand.....please wake up. My son, please....." Her voice cracked as she clung to his lifeless body. "You can even sleep with me tonight... I'll hug you, I'll be there for you... Just please, wake up..."
"I'm sorry, Maria... But Tomas is go... Let him rest now. Please...." João whispered as he pulled her gently away from the bed.
They were two grieving parents, crying like children, clutching each other in the cold, sterile hallway.
"I'm really sorry....." The doctor's hands instinctively extended, as if to offer comfort, but he stopped midway and pulled them back.
Then, his eyes narrowed.
A group of people were walking toward them.
"Sorry to interrupt, ladies and gentlemen, but I need to ask a few questions." The leading man stepped forward. But Maria and João didn't hear a word. Their ears were deafened by the soundless farewell of their son.
As the men stepped under the hallway lights, a burning leaf tattoo was visible on their necks.
"No..... It can't be," the doctor murmured. His thighs trembled. He said nothing, just slowly began to step away.
"Where are you going, old man?" one of the group members grabbed him by the collar.
"Sir, please.... I didn't do anything. Let me go, I beg you..." the doctor stammered, hands clasped in front of him.
"Whatever happened here stays secret. If you care about your family...." the man whispered menacingly as he pulled out a small knife and touched it to the doctor's tongue.
"Y-yes..... I understand..." the doctor stuttered, nodding frantically.
"Out of my sight." The man shoved him hard.
The doctor crashed into the wall, then scrambled to his feet and ran away.
"You bitch! Listen when we speak." Delgado grabbed Maria by the hair.
"Let go, you bastard!" she hissed, staring defiantly into his eyes.
"Ooh, boss...she's scary," Salvador grinned, amused.
The others behind him laughed cruelly.
"You bastards.... You're the reason my son is dead! I'll kill you!" João roared, punching Delgado square in the face.
The impact sent Delgado crashing into the wall, making him release Maria.
"Are you alright?" João held her as both of them wept.
"Boss, be careful. Looks like he's serious about killing you," Salvador snickered.
"You sick bastards! I've already reported you to the cops. Soon, you'll rot in hell. Not even God will save scum like you!" João stepped forward with clenched fists.
Maria cried out, "Yes! Kill him! Kill that monster who took our son!"
"Ohhh," Delgado snapped his fingers.
The gang members lunged at João, beating him mercilessly.
"Let him go!" Maria screamed, rushing to help her husband.
"Stay out of this, bitch!" Delgado snarled, yanking her back by the hair.
"Let go! Let go, you bastard!" Maria screamed, and in desperation, bit his hand.
"Ahh.....bitch!" Delgado growled. "Know your place!" He slammed her into the ground.
"Maria!" João screamed, his own consciousness fading as he was beaten to the verge of blackout..