The morning rose lazily over Ipanema's shoreline, tinting the sky a soft blue. The sun still struggled to emerge among the thin clouds, and the salty breeze swept gently across the sand.
Elisa ran every day at that hour, before the city fully awakened.
White sneakers, hair tied in a high ponytail, earphones playing classical music at low volume.
Her steps were light, rhythmic.
It was the only moment she allowed herself not to think.
Not about surgeries, nor medical articles, nor the past.
Just about breathing.
About movement.
About freedom.
She wore gray leggings and a simple black tank top, as straightforward as her current lifestyle.
And even there, anonymous among many, she carried a beauty that stood out like the tide on the sand—not seeking attention, yet impossible to ignore.
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Across the street, Eduardo sat in the black car taking him to his family's foundation headquarters. Like every day, he was hurried, surrounded by documents and calls demanding decisions.
