Episode 1

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."

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