7
1038 Words
“How’s your brother?” I ask.
“We didn’t talk much after yesterday, but I had time to check his stuff as soon as you dropped me off. Look at this…”
Camile hands me the three-headed card. “I found another one, identical, inside his notebook.”
I pull mine from my phone case just to be sure. The number sequence matches.
“This just proves that the guy who showed up last night is the same one I ran over. And the other guy—the one with the Cerberus tattoo—they all came from the same hole.”
“Yeah, it can’t be a coincidence. You literally crossed paths with Be’s dealer. That’s insane. What are the odds?”
I wonder the same.
“Was there anything else in Be’s notes that might explain what this card means?”
Camile opens her phone gallery and shows me some recent photos. “I found notes about the drugs he picked up. Mostly weed and coke. If I got it right, he owes those guys almost fifteen grand.”
She narrows her eyes, shaking her head. Worry lines her face. “There were also random names with different amounts. Could be bets or something.”
“Like… gambling?”
“Not sure. Could be. But the main thing…” She swipes again, showing another photo. Her nails are chewed raw, the skin around them red.
“‘Coordinates of the invitation. Follow the dirt road to the right, go until the end. There will be a sign: DANGER, DO NOT PASS. Walk toward the abandoned excavators. Tartarus’s secret entrance behind the splatter wall.’”
It takes me a second to process. “Those are instructions.”
“Remember how I said Cerberus guarded the gates of the underworld? In Greek mythology, that world was Tartarus. Basically hell. That’s probably where Be met those people. And if there’s a place, there’s an address. The mysterious card, with the symbol and number sequence, makes it clear they didn’t want to expose whatever the hell this is—but they did want the right people to find it. It looks like geographic coordinates to me.”
“So only authorized people can get there,” I add.
“Exactly. Bernardo probably knows exactly what Cerberus and Tartarus mean. But he made it clear he doesn’t want us involved. Still, this feels serious. I really think my brother’s crossed a line. Those men will kill him.”
“I can get the fifteen grand. I’ll ask my dad for some, use my savings, sell some jewelry—I’ll figure it out.”
She meets my eyes, guilt crushing her. Fighting her instinct to reject my help, she finally crumbles, burying her face in her hands.
The last time I saw Camile like this was when her dad’s Alzheimer’s worsened and he couldn’t remember her anymore. It broke her heart—watching the man she loved most not even recognize her. She cried over not having money to help, not being able to make things easier, even a little.
“God, I hate asking you for this, Lou. I’m sorry. You know I’d never accept your money, but I’m terrified of what they might do to Bernardo…”
I hug her. When Íris died, Camile did the same for me. Not with money, not with things. Just by being there. By being the only one there. She defended me when everyone blamed me. Comforted me when I tore myself apart with guilt. She stayed loyal when grief turned me into someone else.
Bernardo isn’t my brother. I don’t love him. If it were anyone else, I’d say let him deal with the consequences of his own choices. But he matters to Camile. He’s her family. Her love. And that’s enough for me.
“I’ll pay you back little by little, I promise,” Camile says firmly. “Don’t even try to argue. Spare us the fight.”
I laugh softly and nod. I know she’ll spend her life dropping every spare penny into my account. There’s no stopping her.
“All right. We’ve got a probable address and the amount Be owes. Now…” I say, determined, “we just need to find the guys.”
“No. Not that. It’s insane to go to some place we know nothing about.”
“You think it’s like… a crack house?”
She shuts her eyes, rubbing her temples.
“No. It feels more elaborate. The bets, maybe… an illegal casino or something. When I plugged the coordinates into Google Maps, it led toward the countryside outside São Paulo. After that, you have to follow the instructions manually. Honestly, the smart move is to convince Bernardo to take the damn money. That would solve everything.”
“He won’t, Camis. You know your brother.”
“Then he has two choices: take it, or die. Which one do you think he’ll choose?”
“With all due respect, your brother doesn’t make the best choices. That’s how we ended up here. Be may be stubborn and reckless, but he’s always protected you. I wouldn’t be surprised if he chose the harder road just to keep you out of the mess he created.”
Camile goes quiet. No arguments left. She exhales, exhausted.
“You’re right. But maybe we should find someone to go with us…”
“Who? I’m your only friend, and you’re mine.”
“God, what a nightmare!” She cracks her neck and takes a deep breath.
“All right. Let me think… What if we follow the coordinates and the instructions? Just until it feels unsafe. If it’s too dangerous, we leave right away. What do you think?”
“Not bad. We set a limit.”
“And we don’t cross it.”
“Deal!” I say.
“If the place looks disgusting, we leave,” she adds.
“Yes, yes.”
“If there’s no cell service or light, we leave too.”
“Agreed.”
“If it feels like we’ll end up in a ditch, we run.”
“Immediately.”
“Promise?” Camis’s voice wavers.
“I promise.”
- Writer
