— A new testament.
The air seemed to grow heavy.
Clara had never heard the gentleman speak of a will.
Miguel continued:
My grandfather changed his will a month ago.
Clara’s heart raced.
A month ago… that’s when he started showing obvious weakness.
Miguel spoke slowly:
All assets will be transferred to a fund under my administration.
Clara let out a discreet sigh.
At least she wasn’t involved with money.
But then Miguel smiled.
A smile that made her tremble.
— And there is a special clause.
The lawyer opened the last page.
Any individual without blood ties who has maintained frequent contact with Mr. Antônio in the last six months… will be investigated for possible psychological manipulation and attempted financial exploitation.
The room froze.
Miguel looked directly at Clara.
Do you think you’re innocent?
Clara took a step back.
I never wanted his money.
Miguel tilted his head.
So what do you want?
Clara didn’t know how to answer.
Because at that moment, Mr. Antônio, trembling, shouted:
No! Don’t mess with the girl!
Everyone turned around.
He pointed at Miguel with a trembling hand.
— It’s you… you’re the one—
The sentence was interrupted by a severe coughing fit. He almost fainted.
Miguel made a quick gesture to the lawyers.
Take him to the room. Now.
The two men led him inside.
The door slammed shut.
Clara stood in the middle of the room, her heart racing.
Miguel approached her.
Close enough for her to see the tension in his eyes.
He spoke in a low voice:
You have no idea what you’re getting yourself into.
My grandfather isn’t as frail as he seems.
And you’re not as innocent as he thinks either.
Clara clenched her fists.
– What do you want?
Miguel watched her for a few seconds.
Then he took an envelope out of the folder.
He placed it on the table.
— You should open this tonight.
After reading this… you’ll understand why I needed to come back.
He turned his back and left.
The lawyers followed him.
The black car disappeared down the street, leaving the house plunged into a heavy silence.
Clara looked at the envelope.
His name was written on it.
With Mr. Antônio’s shaky handwriting.
She opened it.
There was no money.
Not even property deeds.
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