The following day, black flakes fell from the sky, an eerie early winter snowfall. Rafa rushed into the Fabrica. Pêro swiftly arose from where he sat leaning against the broken foundation wall of the large kiln.
“What’s happened?” Pêro asked, his face ashen, his eyes weary.
“Diogo’s recovered, returned to us!”
Pêro looked up from his entwined fingers. “Oh! Wonderful news.” He let out a long sigh. “The girls and Paulinha are still not here.” His shoulders slumped, eyes bloodshot and swollen. “Any word on the de Sousas?”
“Nothing I’m afraid. Paulinha and the girls probably found a place of refuge. They will come soon,” Rafa said reassuringly.
“Maybe. I pray so.”
“My father says the de Sousas went to Mass at São Domingos. He overheard Sebastião José de Carvalho e Mello has mandated all
