Roots of Misfortune
Leônidas wasn’t exactly sure how they ended up on that topic. Sitting beneath the lamp, the casual atmosphere made him feel safe enough to talk about it without anxiety. There was a depth in his eyes in which Phillipe dared to navigate. The story behind that encounter was fascinating. And it was only because he had earned his trust that he felt ready to tell what had happened before his arrival.
Secretly, his unrest grew with the echoes rising from his unconscious. At least through words, he was able to manage what he felt, making his fears smaller. He was certain that the past no longer belonged to him — the stormy waters had been crossed.
His name, Leônidas, was a tribute to his father, who bore the same name; but due to misfortune, he never had the chance to meet him, as the man died in a car accident when Rachel was still pregnant. He knew his features through photographs, though he believed they resembled each other both in appearance and temperament. His love for sports had been inherited from him. Not just that, but also the shape of his face, his height, and hair color.
Rachel came from a modest family. She moved to a bigger city hoping to find better opportunities for study. They met during college, and the pregnancy came unexpectedly. His family did not agree with it and made efforts to keep them apart. Still, they resisted, despite the pressure they faced.
However, their age and maturity didn’t shield them from the traps that fate had set. They were preparing to move in together to start a family when the unexpected happened. In the eighth month of pregnancy, while returning home from a trip to the stadium, a truck violently collided with his car. He didn’t survive the impact.
His absence triggered deep suffering. The great love of her life disappeared without warning. Expelled from her home by her father — disappointed with the pregnancy — and rejected by her partner’s relatives, she knew she would bear sole responsibility for raising her son.
Given the circumstances, Rachel even thought it might have been better to lose the baby. But little by little, as she faced her grief, she saw in Leônidas the last traces of the man she so deeply loved. For him, she would give every last ounce of her strength. He became the hope that sprouted when there was nothing left to believe in.
So when the doctor announced complications after childbirth, Rachel believed that life had not yet punished her enough. She clung to Leônidas, terrified he might die. That became her greatest fear, for his death would confirm that she would be alone for the rest of her life.
His survival gave her the reason she needed to keep fighting. She managed as best she could until being taken in by a rural community that provided just enough for them to feel somewhat safe. However, the price of staying there was blind faith and strict obedience to their established dogmas. It took years of alienation, and even after they left, detachment wasn’t easy. Their customs had been too harsh. Even after the separation, traces of that life remained part of their daily routine.
When Leônidas was six years old, Rachel met Bartolomeu. The image she had of him hadn’t yet been tainted enough to drive him away. The marks she bore from those days came from living with that man.
At first, in her eyes, Bartolomeu seemed very kind. He convinced her to build a friendly home together, as he was God-fearing and hardworking. And surely, the fact that he was admired in that community made everyone trust his character. Bartolomeu was friendly with everyone and belonged to a traditional group that had lived on that land for generations. Over time, nevertheless, Rachel discovered that the man was not at all who she believed him to be.