December 12, Wednesday

I have a day off to help with the Christmas bake sale at Kai’s school, raising money for the sports team and the choir. Kai is the kicker for his middle-school football team. American football is a sport I will never understand, with all the bashing and bumping. At least there are penalties for roughing the kicker.

I make my version of cupcakes at home, but people at the bake sale whisper that I’m the sous chef at Chez Alice. I just smile and say nothing, and sell out quickly. I’m out of there in thirty minutes.

I pull up in the driveway, lug my empty containers up on to the porch and check the mailbox. There’s a letter from Sónia and Chico, an electric bill, and a business envelope postmarked Brazil with no return address. I leave the containers on the porch, open the front door with trembling hands, sit on the sofa and carefully open the envelope.

Dear Eva,

Please forgive this anonymous letter. I mention Loide Aero, cold creek water and books for babies so you will know who I am. I write because there are people gathering information about the tortured and disappeared. The record you have is crucial to this effort. Please make copies of the documents and send them in confidence to the Archbishop of São Paulo at the following address . . .

They passed a law this year giving amnesty to everyone involved in torturing and murdering Brazilians. They may not be punished in the justice system for their crimes, but the record of what they did will bring the truth forward, so that this can never happen again in our country.

All my love,

Your friend and supporter

This is from Célia. I met her for the first time on the Loide Aero flight to Brasília when Carlos was just a baby, I washed the vice president’s wife’s clothes in the cold creek water, and Dona Maria Thereza gave Carlos children’s books for Christmas. I will make copies of Luiz’s documentation and send them to the commission.