Luiz stood quietly outside the front of his house, leaning against the bumper of the mud-stained Jeep now parked in the driveway. His foster parents had returned home an hour ago, laden down with suitcases and presents. As he hugged his mum and dad, Luiz was suddenly overwhelmed by the realization that it was over. His shoulders slumped and he had to fight back the tears springing into his eyes. He had survived.
The family sat down together in the lounge, drinking coffee as Mariella and Francesco told them all about their trip to São Paulo. It seemed they had stumbled across a major story while they were away which would be the headline story in O Globo the next morning. When it came to their children’s turn, Luiz and Ana tried not to look each other in the eye as they glibly answered questions about school and the past couple of weeks. Luiz explained away his injuries by saying that he had fallen off the back of a scooter. His mum had given him a suspicious look, but appeared to accept it. Luiz didn’t like lying to his foster parents, but he couldn’t think of a way to tell them the truth. Where would he begin?
Faced with a barrage of normality, it was a relief to escape outside, breathe in the cool evening air and listen to the chirping of birds perched in the trees.
There was a noise in the driveway behind Luiz and Ana appeared at his side, slipping her arm through his and resting her head on his shoulder. Refreshed by a shower and a change of clothes, the colour was already returning to his sister’s cheeks.
‘I can’t quite believe it,’ she said thoughtfully. ‘Are we really going to get away with it? Mum and Dad aren’t going to find out?’
‘Looks like it.’ Luiz shot her a sideways glance. ‘Long as you can keep your big mouth shut.’
Ana giggled. ‘I think you can trust me on that one. I still don’t know how you did it – how you got me out of jail. You’re not going to tell me, are you?’
Luiz shook his head. ‘No. Maybe one day.’
‘Are you sure? I get the feeling it could make a really good story for the newspaper…’
‘You’ve got to be kidding me!’
Ana laughed. ‘Maybe a little bit. I think I’m going to take a break from journalism – just for a while, though.’
‘Don’t leave it too long,’ Luiz murmured, his eyes straying back up towards Santa Marta. ‘There’s a big story involving Councillor Cruz that people need to read about and I’ve got the scoop on it. I’ll tell you about that, if you want.’
Ana paused, following Luiz’s gaze up towards the hillside favela. ‘You still want to go back there, don’t you? To Santa Marta?’
Which was a question he had been asking himself. Luiz thought about it for a moment.
‘No,’ he said finally. ‘There’s nothing there for me any more.’
Ana’s eyes went suddenly serious. ‘Are you OK?’
Luiz took a last look at Santa Marta, then smiled at his sister.
‘Yeah, I’m fine. Let’s go inside.’
‘If I were you, I’d stay out here,’ Ana said mischievously. ‘Mum’s sure you’ve been fighting again, and she’s not happy.’
Luiz chuckled softly. ‘I’ve handled worse. Come on.’
As he led his sister back inside their house, the sun dipping behind Rio’s hillsides, a blast of automatic fire echoed down from the favela through the encroaching darkness. Business as usual.