Miguel Duarte reappeared in October.
Not in person — not yet — but in the form of a message through Clara, which was how he'd always operated: arriving at angles, through the people adjacent to the people he'd hurt, as though direct contact would require an acknowledgement he wasn't ready for.
Clara called on a Tuesday evening with the careful voice she used when delivering information she'd been sitting with for a day.
"He contacted me," she said. "Two days ago. I've been trying to decide whether to tell you."
"Tell me everything," Camila said.
He'd found Clara through social media — she had a professional account for her design work, visible, findable. He'd sent a message that was approximately forty words long, which was, Camila thought, a very short message for six years of absenc
