Page 173 - SpontaneousSuccessFINAL6

SPONTANEOUS SUCCESS
paused, stopping at a shot of Tomaz waving from the
driver’s seat of his Oldsmobile. A young girl sat beside
him. Francesca flattened the album and pointed to her.
“Do you remember the night before you left?” she
asked, her voice barely audible over the plane's drone.
“It was an emotional night for me,” I admitted.
“For everyone,” she agreed, her gaze fixed on the
photo. "This girl," she tapped the girl's face with her
fingernail. "She delivered an envelope to you."
The memory surfaced, hazy but there. “A child in a
Benfica shirt?”
Francesca nodded. "This is Lara. Tomaz’s daughter.
That envelope… it ended up in the garbage, covered in
mustard." Her chin trembled, and she looked away,
ashamed. "I rescued it. I opened it, cleaned it, and put it
in a fresh envelope from the store." She finally met my
eyes, her own glinting with a confession held for
decades. "But I read it. I am so sorry. I know I shouldn't
have."
I reached out and placed my hand on hers. She gave a
tight, sad smile.
"At first, it seemed so insignificant," she began again,
her voice a torrent of hushed words. "I asked myself, was
this a sign? A message from God? Or was it just rubbish,
the ramblings of an old man everyone called crazy?" She
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