The voices Josias had heard from the kitchen belonged to Pamela and Fabrício. He had never heard Fabrício’s voice before, but he deduced it was him by the unfamiliar male tone and the way he spoke with such unearned intimacy.
Fabrício had managed to embed himself within the Campos family so quickly. If he was having lunch with them, it was because Simeon had allowed it. And if they were talking about futures and careers, it was because Fabrício already had, or was seeking, permission to date Melissa.
Disappointment hit Josias like a punch; he felt a heavy stone in his chest and a thick lump in his throat.
Uélton noticed his friend’s defeated posture and immediately bristled. “Hey, what’s with that face?”
“The face of someone who knows he’s been beaten,” Josias responded, his voice holl
