HE WOKE UP at five thirty. A little dazed, he stared at the sky-blue ceiling. The dream happened again, he thought. With that same feeling: he doesn't know when the last time was, but he knows he's had it before. This time would be different. Hugo turned on the bedside lamp, sitting up in bed. From the nightstand, he took his planner and pen. He started writing:

"I'm sure I've dreamed about this before. I just don't remember when the last time was. When I try to remember, it's like there's a hole in my memory. Like that part of it had been sucked out. But I know this same dream was there. It's bizarre. Surreal. I was in an interrogation room, in the corner doing the transcription. This room has a single fluorescent light on the ceiling, one of those that reminds you a little of those police series. Suddenly, a tall, white man opens the door and stands in the doorway. In the dream, I freeze. No reaction. The guy took everyone by surprise. He looked like a detective, since he was wearing a badge. And he was carrying a white A4 envelope in his hand. Our eyes met. Then I woke up, like now."

Hugo tapped his pen on the paper, as if trying to unlock the memory. No success. Letting out his breath, he left the planner and pen aside. His sleepiness had passed and, knowing himself, it was no use trying to sleep again. He got out of bed. Opening the curtain a little, he saw that the sky was already light.

Automatically, he took off his pajama pants and covered himself with the towel, heading for the shower.

As he let the water run down his body, Hugo questioned how difficult it was for the human mind to retrieve dreams in the same vivid way they happened. He remembered watching an episode of Black Mirror — the one where the guy keeps replaying memories through a subcutaneous device. Through it, he discovers his wife's betrayal and that he is not the real father of the girl.

This could happen with dreams too. As soon as we woke up, a video file would be saved on this device — which would be accessed by the mini touch control. Hugo was going off on these ideas while massaging shampoo into his hair.

Since this technology doesn't exist yet, he would have to resort to the notepad he always kept by the bed. It's a complicated puzzle: trying to figure out exactly how many times he'd had the same dream. It's something that intrigued him.

He put his fertile imagination aside, wrapping a towel around his waist — while using the other to dry his hair, looking at himself in the mirror.

...****************...

HAVING COFFEE ALONE, the cell phone rang. It was Chiara, a forensic psychiatrist and his best friend. Hugo answered:

"Tell me, my love."

"Good morning, dear. Long time no see…"

"Good morning… True. How are you?"

"I'm good. And you? Disappeared…"

"I'm here on a break. Finally."

"And what are you doing on this day off?"

"Finishing the first meal of the day" he took a sip of coffee. "And you?"

"Wanting to take a walk on the beach. Wanna come?"

"Hmm…"

"I don't accept"no"for an answer."

"I didn't say anything" Hugo laughed.

"Boy, we haven't seen each other in a while. Stop being silly and come see me!" she joked.

"I had planned a very lazy day here…"

"Be lazy later. It's just a morning at the beach. It'll do you good."

Chiara doesn't give up. Hugo knew. Defeated, he said:

"Where and what time?"

"In Leblon, at nine. Kisses!" She hung up.

"Kisses" Hugo shook his head from side to side, laughing. "Crazy."

...****************...

"ARE YOU COMING FOR coffee, son?" Carmen half-opened the door to Pedro Henrique's room, who had also woken up early.

"Coming, Mom" he went back to typing on his laptop. "I'm getting ahead on some things here before I actually start the day."

"Don't be long, okay? Good morning" she blew a kiss.

"Good morning" he returned the kiss from afar.

Since receiving the case of a young woman who disappeared under suspicious circumstances, Pedro Henrique's instincts pointed to International Human Trafficking. He was up before dawn to immerse himself in the research. The witnesses were going to give their statements later, and he needed to gather clues that could be crucial. He has been working as an investigator for the Federal Police of Sao Paulo for eight years.

This type of trafficking brings in more than 30 billion dollars a year, he reminded himself. A lucrative but inhumane business. He continued to scroll down, reading another article. The more he read, the more he jotted down in his notepad — he always wrote by hand.

...****************...

"GOOD MORNING, FAMILY." Pedro sat down at the table, already serving himself breakfast.

"You're up early, son" Osvaldo offered him some coalho cheese.

"I had to get up early, Dad. Eat a little something and get back to the station. Busy day."

"New case?"

"Disappearance."

"Oh my God" Carmen said. "Living in Sao Paulo is not easy at all, folks."

"If only, Mom. The girl didn't disappear here."

"No?"

"She was traveling for work. She hasn't been heard from in three days. She doesn't call, she doesn't text, she doesn't go on social media. Nothing. I'm exploring some possibilities."

"My goodness" Carmen was taken aback, but she recovered, saying: "I hope everything goes well, then. I imagine how this girl's mother must be feeling…"

"They are desperate. The family, friends… Everyone."

"It's unimaginable. Is she young?"

"Twenty-six years old."

"Almost your age. Goodness…"

"In a little while I'm going to interview the witnesses" Pedro brought the coffee cup to his mouth.

...****************...

"I'M SO GLAD YOU CAME..." Chiara hugged Hugo. They arranged to meet at Leblon beach.

"I haven't been here in ages" Hugo commented, looking at the mound of sand and the sea a little way off.

"Me neither" Chiara lifted her sunglasses. "It's been a while since I've known what a beach is."

"How are you?"

"I'm getting on with life, so far. Work, running around... And you?"

"Work, running around..." Hugo mimicked her tone, smiling.

"You goofball" Chiara laughed, playfully punching his shoulder. "So, are we going to stay in a tent around here?"

"Sounds good to me" Hugo shrugged.

They went to an empty tent. No one was there. Even Leblon was very quiet before ten in the morning — which was strange. Hugo followed Chiara until he froze, looking at the last person he wanted to see in the world. There he was, in swim trunks and sunglasses. Getting on with life. As if nothing had happened. As if he hadn't done any of that to Hugo.

Hugo stood there paralyzed.

"What's wrong?" Chiara frowned, surprised. She looked in the same direction as Hugo and understood.

"My..." He let out his breath. "Let's get out of here."

"MY BAD, GIRLFRIEND." Hugo and Chiara rented a tent in Ipanema. Chiara took a sip of the lime caipiroska.

"Relax, buddy. I know you were uncomfortable seeing that so-and-so there. The unspeakable."

"Yeah" he breathed out.

"Is he always around there?"

"If he is, I'm never setting foot there again."

"Oh my god…" Chiara hurried to complete: "Not because of what you said, but… Didn’t he say he wasn't leaving here?"

"He was supposed to be far away from here. Far, far away."

"When you two broke up…" she was careful to choose her words, to approach the subject. "When each of you went your separate ways, hadn’t the other creature traveled days later…?"

"I really thought he had traveled. Maybe he has traveled." Hugo paused. "Until what happened today."

"I wish I hadn't recommended Leblon as the first option."

"It’s not your fault" Hugo looked Chiara in the eyes. "You don't have to feel this way. It’s out of our control."

"True. But the atmosphere got heavy… Didn't it?"

Hugo took a long sip of the caipiroska.

"No" he smiled, placing the nearly empty glass on the table. "It didn't. Now let's talk a little more about you, how about that? I want to know how you're doing…"

"Me?" Chiara raised an eyebrow.

"Yes, ma’am!" Hugo laughed. "I know you got engaged to Vanessa…"

"It was out of the blue, you know?"

"I knew. Vanessa is the last romantic in the world" Hugo joked.

"I have to agree with you on that…" Chiara laughed.

They continued talking about the post-engagement.

...****************...

"HE’LL PAY ME." Aron was playing volleyball with three other guys. One of them was his friend and his partner: David. Before defending the ball, the boy comments:

"Why do you insist on that, man?"

Aron stopped, staring at him. In doing so, he missed the ball. The two guys on the other side signaled, ending the game.

"You think I'm going to let that day go by so cheaply? He had the police escort me from his apartment…"

"But then you screwed up" David shrugged. "You didn't want to accept the end of the relationship and threw a vase that almost hit him in the head."

"If it had hit him…"

"You're kidding, right?"

"No."

There was a brief moment of awkward silence.

"It would be much worse if it had hit him" David said.

"Who can say… I would hit a vase. Then another one… Then I’d run away. Who would find me?"

"I really don't believe you're not kidding" David gave a nervous laugh.

"Never been more serious."

The coldness in Aron's voice — and the naturalness with which he spoke all this nonsense — left David speechless. The two hardly saw each other and that volleyball match on the beach was just a random opportunity. David remembered and understood why he didn't hang out with him that much.

"I’m going to go."

"Tired?" Aron laughed, mockingly.

"I'm tired."

"Then go, weakling."

David returned only a little punch with his hand and kept walking. He tried not to walk too fast. He no longer recognized the guy who was once his friend. Or maybe he didn't really know him?

...****************...

"GOOD MORNING, P.H." greeted Alex, who sat on the corner of his desk holding a mug full of coffee. That was Pedro's nickname inside the police station.

"Good morning…" Peter only looked at the man there once, while typing rhythmically on the computer. "I'm here filing some stuff…."

"Leave that work to the clerk."

"No way. Silly thing. I’ll do it myself."

"Hmm" Alex shrugged.

"But tell me…"

"Tell you what?" Alex set his mug down on Peter's desk, frowning at him.

"Any news on the case?"

"The witnesses should give their statements today. With that, we can make some progress in this case."

"Hope so" Peter let out his breath. "Seems like a tricky business to solve."

"Let's hope it just seems that way." Alex stood up. "Soon it’ll be time for someone to come here and give a statement."

"Okay."

"There's fresh coffee in the break room. Be sure to grab some."

With that, Alex left.

"Okay."

...****************...

HUGO RETURNED FROM THE SEA. He sat down on the lounger, wearing his sunglasses. He had ordered just one more drink, taking the first sip.

"The sea is delicious" he commented.

Chiara was looking at the horizon.

"It really is."

There was a moment of silence. Chiara took another sip of the caipiroska. She put her hat on her head and, letting out her breath, began to touch on the subject:

"Buddy."

"Say it."

"Can you answer me a question?"

"I can. I just can't guarantee the answer will be satisfactory" Hugo joked.

"But I'm serious, boy."

Hugo let out his breath.

"All right. Ask me what's going on in that titanium mind of yours…"

"Are you okay? For real."

He was silent. He frowned.

"Girlfriend…" he adjusted himself on the lounger "I'm learning to deal with this trauma. You're home alone just fine, and out of nowhere your ex-boyfriend invades your space and says he's going to kill you. This same ex-boyfriend throws a large porcelain vase at your mirror, almost hitting you in the head… Anyway. You, out of nowhere, see your life flash before your eyes like a movie while he continues to chase you with a sharp object… Insisting on ending your life… Anyway." Hugo let out his breath and concluded: "It’s a mess. Heavy, even."

Chiara remained silent. Even though she had lived through that fateful day with Hugo — she accompanied him to file a complaint with the police — she is still shocked.

"Did you go back to therapy?"

"No. Not yet."

"I'm also behind…" Chiara decided to change the subject. She didn't want to turn that conversation into a session. Much less Hugo, of course. She completed: "Until I have a day marked on my therapist's schedule… I'm going to forget my problems with one more drink."

"Then it's two of us" Bruno raised his empty caipiroska glass. He motioned to the boy at the kiosk "Hey, my dear, see two more of these here."

"A day off with alcohol never hurt anyone" Chiara finished her drink.

"I'll say."

...****************...

HE ALREADY LISTENED to the first witness. It was one of the closest friends of Janine, the young woman who disappeared abroad. The young woman said that Janine had received a proposal to work abroad, to receive in euros and be able to send money to her family. This young woman judged that there was nothing wrong and that Janine would actually do well.

Peter asked if the young woman had ever seen the person who made this job offer to Janine. As expected, the answer was no.

Since he wasn't going to get much out of it, the young woman was dismissed. Then the mother came to testify.

"Did your daughter show you a photo or conversation from this person who made the job offer?"

"No" the lady replied. "She didn't show me who he was. She only showed me what it was: the proposal. I read it. It seemed very good and truthful. I just didn't know who was behind it. I believed it was someone trustworthy. I could have insisted on actually meeting this person… Have looked at a portrait just out of doubt…"

"Well, ma'am" Peter winced. "Quite a complicated situation, but… Answer me one thing: besides the young woman who came here, did she have anyone even closer?"

"Yes, of course. At the place where she worked. A certain Eliza. The two have known each other for a long time and certainly Janine must have said more things to her."

"Do you have the address where I can find this Eliza?"

"Of course. I'll give it to you…"

"Write it here, please" Peter offered a notepad and pen.

The lady wrote it all down.

...****************...

THE DAY AT THE BEACH was great. Hugo came out of the shower, wrapped in a towel while drying his hair with the other. He noticed that the clock said six-thirty in the afternoon. All he wants now is to spend the rest of the day lying in bed, binge-watching some random series. He was back tomorrow.

Before, he decided to check his email to make sure everything was okay — if there wasn't an important message that was ignored all day. He hoped not. Until there was only one unread message. Hugo was taken aback just reading the subject:

...TRANSFER ORDER...

HE LOOKED AT himself in the mirror. He was ready to go. He decided to double-check before getting to the door. He chose an all-black look, betting on versatility. He touched his hair, careful not to mess up his hairstyle. It was an important night. And he grabbed his cell phone, sending him a message:

…I'm coming down. Kisses.…

He replied:

…Almost around the corner here. I will wait for you.…

The lights went out suddenly.

"“What the hell…”"

He heard two footsteps in his direction. Since everything was dark, he didn't know which way to go. Before he could even calculate a reaction, a flashlight beam was shining in his face.

"“Stop right there,” a robotic voice ordered. “Now.”"

Hugo wasn't alone. He knew it as soon as he saw the gun barrel pointed in the same direction. The only instinctive reaction was to raise both hands.

"“Who sent you here?” It was the only question he could manage."

The shot was deafening.

…****…

HUGO WOKE UP STARTLED. The clock read one in the morning. The TV was still on. “Are you still watching?” He didn't remember what he was watching on Netflix before he fell asleep. He turned on the lamp and turned off the TV. He needed to write down every dream he had, he reminded himself. No matter how insignificant. That nightmare was far from it. It was in the top 3 worst. He grabbed his notebook and pen, beginning to write. After he narrated, trying to be as accurate as possible, he began to describe feelings:

If I didn't die now, I'll never die. My heart is still pounding. Maybe this nightmare has something to do with seeing my ex on Leblon beach. If he had the guts to try to kill me by throwing a big vase in the mirror and then chase me around the apartment using a big, sharp piece… I would expect the worst from him. Would it be a bad omen? Get out of this apartment so I don't have to go through this again… In the dream, the room was similar; the mirror was in the same place. The incandescent light too. Could this Transfer not be a matter of destiny? I have no doubt… Or am I just too freaked out by this dream? I can't lose my mind. It was just a nightmare. As I put it all on paper, I realize that was all it was: a nightmare. And, as always, a nightmare is forgotten when you go back to sleep and the memory is occupied with another dream. A very realistic nightmare. I will take it as a warning to stay away from the unspeakable.

He tried to sleep when he put the notebook aside with the pen, but couldn't. He grabbed his laptop and opened his email, to get a better look at the Transfer Letter that had arrived that afternoon while he was with Chiara. It's not just a transfer. Hugo has been promoted to work as an investigator for the Federal Police. A promotion that requires starting from scratch.

…*Your activities inherent to the position of FEDERAL POLICE INVESTIGATOR** will begin at the new unit, PF — SAO PAULO - SP, from August 3***. Compliance with the function from the aforementioned date is essential.…

Hugo returns from vacation that day.

…****…

ANOTHER DAY. Eleven in the morning. Pedro Henrique was feeding information into the report he needed to deliver to Alex: regarding the testimonies he had collected and the lead he was going to follow.

"“Excuse me,” Alex entered his office."

"“Speak of the devil…” Pedro joked. “I finished the report and just sent it to your email. Was that it?”"

"“No, but thanks.”"

"“So what is it?” Pedro folded his arms on the table. “Anything new?”"

Alex sat down in the chair across from the young man.

"“You will work as a duo on this case,” he said."

"“Wow.”"

"“He's from Rio. Just got promoted. He has a very good profile.”"

"“You've already been evaluating, haven't you?” Pedro went back to typing on the computer."

"“It was necessary. Anyway… He starts next month. The Transfer Letter has been delivered and he must be, at this moment, organizing his life there to come and live here.”"

"“Aren't you ashamed to change the boy's life so suddenly…?” Pedro's tone was dry and ironic at the same time."

"“Occupational hazards, my friend.” Alex took a long sip of coffee."

Pedro frowned, looking at the Delegate. He censured in a playful tone:

"“Aren't you afraid of overdosing? It's the fifth cup before noon.”"

"“The fear I have is not being able to take a single sip of this here.” He held up the black and white mug as if indicating it. Stood up. “I just came to bring you this message.”"

"“Okay. Bye.”"

"“Are you going out?” Alex raised an eyebrow, the door ajar."

"“In a bit. I'm going to have lunch and follow a lead. Not necessarily in that order…”"

"“Good boy.”"

Alex closed the door.

…****…

"“TRANSFER?” CHIARA WAS surprised when Hugo announced the Letter he received by email. They were having lunch together at the bistro."

"“Yes, girl. I went to check my inbox as if it were nothing… Lie, I wanted to,” he amended in a playful tone, laughing. “I just wanted to know if there was anything important, because, you know… Then I read the huge name Letter. I was left without knowing what to do with my life for five minutes.”"

"“And I thought the promotion was here. That you would continue here, working.” Chiara frowned."

"“I thought so too,” Hugo shrugged. “But since I accepted, I'm not going to chicken out. Being an investigator has been something I've been wanting to do for the past few years.”"

"“No more being a clerk, right?”"

"“That's right.”"

"“But, so, have you thought about what you're going to do with the apartment… the furniture…?”"

"“I'm taking some of it with me. I'm going to have to get rid of the other part, and it's going to be by selling things.”"

"“You're practically going to have to start all over again, huh, friend…”"

"“That's right.” Hugo stared into space. “And I still have my vacation starting this weekend.”"

"“Did anything change?”"

"“No. Thank God.”"

"“Good thing, right?”"

"“I just need at least fifteen days. Only. Because I have a slight feeling that they are going to interrupt.”"

"“Why?”"

"“Looks like there's a new case out there. Polemic.”"

"“Hmm…” Chiara took a sip of juice. “Tell me more.”"

Hugo rested his arms on the table, leaning closer.

"“International Human Trafficking,” he whispered."

"“No way. Here in Brazil?”"

"“I'll find out more when I get there.” Hugo chuckled. “Cesar didn't want to tell me many details. But I just heard that. I arrived in the morning to talk about the Letter and he told me little." He said he would continue the conversation after lunch.”

"“He wants to talk more calmly.” Chiara shrugged. “To tell you the details. It is a really controversial case. If it's here in Brazil, then…”"

"“Let's see later.”"

There was a brief silence.

"“Found the new apartment in Sao Paulo yet?”"

"“What if I told you I found it right away?” Hugo picked up his cell phone, opening an app. “I'll show you the pictures…”"

…****…

HUGO DECIDED TO STOP by the house. With time to spare, he took the opportunity to check the ads he had posted on the Buy & Sell website. He is going to hand over the apartment this weekend—on Saturday.

Walking around the living room, he looked at much of his belongings that were already boxed up. The moving truck will pick everything up tomorrow—the things he won't need. He packed his suitcase for vacation, left some clothes to continue wearing… Anyway. A madness he needed to manage. In the end, it was working out.

He sat down on the wooden floor, cell phone in hand, just imagining the good times he had in his apartment: the motivation behind the move; the moment he first saw the space; the closing of the contract; receiving the keys; the small inauguration he had with a few friends; the space slowly being occupied with his things.

The first place he could call *his*.