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She went on, voice trembling. “He used to talk about a house with a piano… and a garden. He said he had an older brother who called him ‘my champion.’ The other kids thought he was making it up. But I believed him.”
Her words slid directly into the place Arthur had kept locked for three decades.
If she was right, then his brother hadn’t just vanished into thin air.
He had been somewhere all along.
A Childhood Lost in Paperwork
The next morning, Arthur didn’t go into the office. Instead, he hired a private investigator and drove with Clara to the old São Vicente orphanage.
Time had not been kind to the building. The paint had peeled; the gate hung crooked. Yet inside, the past seemed to linger in the quiet halls.
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