The restaurant was tucked away in the Alfama, a warren of cobblestone streets that seemed to hold the city's deepest secrets. Inside, the air was thick with the scent of grilled sardines and wine. Dark wood, lace-draped windows, and the mournful, soulful voice of a fado singer on a small stage created an atmosphere that was both intimate and heavy with history. It was exactly the escape Lívia needed. For a little over an hour, it worked.
They sat in a corner, sharing a plate of seafood rice and a bottle of Vinho Verde. Camila told her stories about the absurdities of her legal battle, making Lívia laugh for the first time in days. Lívia talked about the intricate details of her community center design, her passion rekindling as she spoke. They were just two people in love, sharing a meal in a beautiful city. The shadow of Inês felt distant, a problem for tomorrow.
Then, the restaurant door swung open, letting in a gust of cool night air and a figure that belonged in their nightmares.
Inês stood there, her eyes scanning the room with a fevered intensity. She looked disheveled, her clothes wrinkled, her hair wild. Her gaze locked onto them, and a terrifying calm settled over her features. She walked toward their table, her movements deliberate, ignoring the waiter who tried to intercept her.
"I helped you," she said, her voice eerily quiet, yet it cut through the music and chatter. "I got you out of that cell. I saved you from yourself."
Lívia froze, her fork halfway to her mouth. Camila's body tensed, her hand instinctively moving to cover Lívia's on the table.
"Inês, you need to leave," Camila said, her voice low and even, a warning.
Inês ignored her, her eyes fixed on Lívia. "I thought you understood. I thought we were going to fix this. But you used me. You let me get you out and then you ran to *her*." She spat the last word like it was poison. "You avoided me, you betrayed me."
"Please," Lívia whispered, her heart hammering against her ribs. "Just go."
"I loved you," Inês's voice cracked, rising in pitch. "And I thought you loved me. We made love, Lívia! We had sex! Do you remember? In your bed, after you cried about her? It was real!"
The lie was so audacious, so publicly venomous, that it stole the air from Lívia's lungs. It was designed for maximum damage, not to Lívia, but to Camila. A flicker of doubt—just for a second—crossed Camila's face before being replaced by a cold, protective rage. But the seed was planted. The fado music had stopped. The entire restaurant was staring.
A woman at a nearby table gasped. "My God," she whispered to her partner.
Inês saw the effect she was having, and a triumphant, manic smile spread across her face. She reached into her large handbag.
"I helped you!" she screamed, her voice echoing in the sudden, horrified silence of the room. "And this is how you repay me? By choosing her? By throwing away everything we had?"
She pulled out a small, black handgun.
Panic erupted. A collective gasp turned into a cacophony of screams as patrons shoved their chairs back and scrambled for the exits. The crash of a wine glass hitting the floor, the frantic shouts of the restaurant staff—it was pure chaos.
"Everybody stop!" Inês shrieked, her hand trembling as she aimed the weapon not at them, but at the ceiling. "Nobody move!"
And then, to punctuate her command, she fired a single shot.
The sound was deafening in the enclosed space, a sharp, violent crack that shattered the plaster ceiling above. Dust rained down. The screaming intensified as the last few diners clawed their way out the door.
In the ensuing chaos, Camila moved. She didn't hesitate. Her training, her innate instinct for self-preservation and protection, took over. She threw herself sideways, knocking over their small table with a loud crash. The impact sent dishes and glasses shattering to the floor.
"Get down!" she yelled, grabbing Lívia by the arm and yanking her behind the heavy wooden table, now lying on its side like a barricade. "Stay behind me!"
Lívia was frozen in shock, her body trembling violently. Camila shielded her with her own body, her eyes locked on Inês, who was standing in the middle of the now-empty restaurant, crying and holding the gun like it was a foreign object she didn't know how to use.
"You see?" Inês sobbed, looking at the wreckage. "You see what you make me do, Vívi?!" The delirium booming in her teary words.