Building My Life

Chapter 48 - I Need Your Help

Melissa didn’t want to steer the conversation toward the disastrous failure of her meeting with Josias, but Jenny was burning with curiosity and determined to piece the puzzle together.

So, Melissa recounted everything: from the moment Pamela burst into the house with Josias’s alleged “plan” to Simeon’s explosive reaction.

“So Pamela visited Josias at the site,” Jenny said, mentally retracing the timeline. “And today she came out with this. Then a friend of his shows up and makes a joke that basically confirms your father’s worst fears.”

“I still feel like something is wrong.” Melissa crossed her arms, sitting heavily on the edge of her bed.

Jenny sat beside her. “I get it. But your father has forbidden you from seeing the laborer, and Fabrício is coming tomorrow. Don’t you just want to move on and forget this madness? Seeing Fabrício might actually help you get over losing Josias.”

Melissa wasn’t convinced — not now, not ever. Losing Josias? She didn’t want to lose him; she wanted the truth.

“It’s too early to talk about ‘getting over’ anything, Jenny,” Melissa said firmly. “And what happened to Pamela has completely soured my mood for tomorrow’s lunch. I thought about inviting both of you, but now, with her in that state...”

“I’m in!” Jenny interrupted, self-inviting without a shred of shame. “And you can bet Pamela won’t pass up a free meal either!”

Melissa managed a weak smile. Her friends were certainly... persistent.

***

Later that evening, Melissa was on the phone with Mrs. Chaves.

“Oh, Melissa, how generous of you! I’ll tell Pamela to stop her crying and come enjoy that lunch.”

Melissa frowned. The Chaves family was truly unusual. Their lack of concern for Pamela’s obvious trauma was unsettling.

“Tell her it will be a pleasure. I won’t even ask what upset her today; I just want to see her smile and eat. Mom is making chicken lasagna.”

“If she doesn’t go, I’ll go in her place!” Mrs. Chaves joked.

“Maybe...” Melissa didn’t find it particularly funny. “See you later. Goodnight, Mrs. Chaves.”

Mrs. Chaves hung up and headed to the second floor. She stopped at Pamela’s door. It was still locked.

Inside, Pamela had finally stopped sobbing, but she was a shell of herself. She was still wearing the torn gray blouse and jeans; her scraped knees were uncleaned, and her hair hung dull and lifeless. Her eyes were fixed in a thousand-yard stare, as if she were under a trance.

“Daughter? Your friend Melissa called. She’s inviting you to lunch tomorrow. Stop this moping and go, they’re having chicken lasagna.”

At the mention of the lunch, Pamela was hit by a wave of tremors and chills. She curled into herself, staring at nothing. She remembered leaving the house with Fabrício earlier that day to “celebrate” his invitation to that very same lunch. If she shows up... if she sees him there... she might explode. She might tell them everything.

Another knock followed, this time heavy and impatient. It was her father.

“Daughter! Get out of this room and answer this Fabrício person! It’s the fifteenth time he’s called! He says if you don’t answer, he’s going to call Melissa to ask what’s going on. And you still owe us an explanation for where you were during lunch!”

Her father’s voice was harsh and insensitive. Had he known what had truly happened at Fabrício’s house, he would have been the one calling the police, not nagging her to answer the phone.

But the threat of Fabrício calling Melissa jolted Pamela into action. She scrambled up and checked herself in the mirror. She wiped the tear stains from her face, licked her hand to rub the dirt off her scraped knees, and threw on a large purple blouse to hide the rip in her clothes.

She unlocked the door. Mr. Chaves saw a girl who was pale, limping, and red-eyed, but who offered a faint, ghostly smile. “I’ll answer it,” she whispered.

Pamela dodged her father and descended the stairs as quickly as her injured leg allowed. She picked up the receiver.

“Pamela? Where were you?”

Fabrício’s voice was cold and impersonal. Just hearing it made Pamela break into a cold sweat; her heart began to race painfully against her ribs.

“I’m... I’m at home...” Her voice was weak, submissive.

“And why didn’t you answer my calls if you were home?” Fabrício didn’t care about her well-being; he only cared about his control.

“I... I thought you would understand—”

“Here’s the deal, girl,” Fabrício interrupted, his tone sharp as a dagger. “You are going to do everything in your power to make sure Melissa becomes my girlfriend.”

Pamela’s eyes went wide. The audacity was suffocating. “How can you expect me to help you... after what you did to me?”

“I didn’t do anything to you!” he snapped, his voice ruthless. “It’s all your fault. And if you didn’t like it, then you’d better make sure Melissa says yes to me. If you don’t help me, I’ll bring you back here to my house. Do you understand?”

Pamela’s hands were shaking so hard she almost dropped the phone. This was a nightmare she couldn’t wake up from.

“How can you ask me for that?” she cried out.

“Don’t you want to get rid of that bricklayer? Then the only way is to tie Melissa to me. I already have the father’s blessing; I just need the ‘best friend’ to finish the job.”

“I was happy to help you two... until you—”

“We’ll talk later,” Fabrício cut her off. “If you stop taking my calls, I’m coming to get you. You’re very ‘hot,’ girl. Remember that.”

He hung up. As the line went dead, Pamela felt as though her heart had dropped right out of her chest.