The taxi left the neighborhood, leaving behind dark alleys and heavy stares. Inside the car, silence reigned. Lucas, sitting next to Claws, stared out the window as if searching for courage.
Finally, he couldn't hold it in.
"— Claws… can I ask you something?"
Claws raised an eyebrow.
"— Go ahead."
Lucas took a deep breath.
"— How did you… end up in a gang?"
Diego shifted in his seat, curious. Mateus closed his eyes, already anticipating the answer Claws had never spoken out loud.
The leader of the group ran his hand through his short hair and spoke calmly:
"— It wasn't a choice of 'wanting to be a criminal.' I grew up in that neighborhood. Opportunity? Almost none. Work? Only the kind that doesn't even pay for the bus. I needed to help at home. My parents worked hard, but it wasn't enough. School, you know, isn't cheap. I joined because it was the only way to bring in money without them knowing."
Diego swallowed hard.
"— And they don't suspect anything?"
Claws shook his head.
"— To them, I'm just the kid who studies, gets decent grades, and tries to be polite. They have no idea what happens on the street. And I prefer it that way. I don't want to destroy their peace."
The taxi drove on in silence for a few seconds, until the driver, a middle-aged man, spoke without taking his eyes off the road:
"— Kid… I don't usually meddle in passengers' lives. But I can see in your eyes that you have a good heart. Just be careful: life charges a high price for those who insist on the wrong path. Sooner or later, the bill comes due."
The words hung in the air. Lucas looked at Claws, who turned his gaze to the window, thoughtful.