Chapter 47: Uncertainty
He had many reasons to live.
He had already survived, which had been the hardest part.
He watched as pale neon lines crossed his broken window, bringing a bit of color to the darkness of his room.
He tried to fall into a restorative sleep, but his eyes kept opening no matter how tightly he closed them.
He was tired. Exhausted from thinking, remembering, and feeling so intensely.
He needed a way to relieve himself of all those burdens.
He had lost many people throughout his life. It was a way of life instilled by the precarious neighborhoods.
But this had been very different for him.
Because some people didn’t just occupy space in your life — they formed part of it as support.
They were invisible pillars that seemed eternal until the moment they disappeared.
Gabriel looked at the screen of his personal device. The conversation with Noel was still open, empty and silent.
For several minutes he wrote, deleted, and wrote again. He erased words and modified phrases.
He probably wasn’t the best at expressing himself, but he continued anyway, because some things had to be said.
Even if no one wanted to hear them.
He finally finished the message. He read it several times and pressed send.
The screen confirmed the transmission.
Gabriel stared at the conversation for a few seconds and then closed it.
His attention shifted to another task. He opened an empty folder and stared at it for several seconds before beginning to fill it.
Photographs, recordings, and conversations. They were small fragments of the past.
Moments shared with the brothers who didn’t usually agree.
There was even a recording where Kael tried to convince them that a bad decision was an excellent idea.
After that, he stored everything carefully, organized the files, and sorted them by date.
And finally closed the folder. He didn’t want to lose it.
When he finished, he remained motionless. The room was completely silent and the sadness was still there.
Gabriel closed his eyes and finally fell asleep.
***
The next morning he was the first to arrive.
The sun had barely begun to rise over the buildings when he entered the clinic.
His face no longer carried the traces that had tormented him the night before.
His tired eyes were gone, along with the defeated expression.
He looked serene and in control.
In his hands he held a small box of sweets he had bought.
They weren’t much, but the gesture was always welcome.
He approached the automatic reception system and entered the necessary information.
He waited a few seconds and the screen responded.
[No information.]
Gabriel felt a knot in his stomach. He tried again.
The result was identical.
He entered the data again with greater precision and slowly.
The response was exactly the same.
[No information.]
For a moment he felt like the machine was defective. Because the alternative was ridiculous.
Noel had been there and he had seen him himself. His condition wouldn’t allow him to leave the clinic anytime soon.
He moved away from the screen and immediately looked for a nurse.
He found her organizing virtual documents.
Gabriel walked straight toward her.
"Good morning... I need information about a patient."
The woman looked up.
"Name?"
"Noel."
The nurse quickly checked her screen and then shook her head.
"We don’t have any patient registered under that name."
Gabriel felt his anxiety rising.
"That’s impossible."
The woman stepped back slightly.
"Sir..."
"He was here."
His voice had increased in intensity. The conversation was beginning to escalate.
And that was when two figures appeared at the end of the hallway.
In uniforms, with rigid posture and serious expressions.
They were the agents.
Gabriel recognized them immediately.
They walked straight toward him.
One of the men placed a hand on his shoulder and said:
"Let’s talk. Don’t cause a scene."
His tone was calm.
Gabriel remained motionless for a few seconds and then nodded.
He still understood how the world worked. Arguing inside a hospital with uniformed agents was an excellent way to make any situation worse.
He followed them, crossing several hallways. And after an automatic door, they finally reached the exterior parking area.
The cold air hit his face, giving him no time to react.
A fist struck him directly in the stomach, the pain spreading through his nerves.
All the air left his lungs, and he doubled over slightly.
The box of sweets flew out, hitting the ground.
"Son of a bitch," growled the younger agent. "Do you think you’re untouchable by authority?"
Gabriel slowly raised his head. Still trying to catch his breath, until he could give a response.
"I only know that your mother was a whore to give birth to a bastard like you"
The silence was immediate.
The vein in the agent’s neck seemed to swell as he took a step forward.
And when the situation was about to degenerate into something much worse.
A third voice intervened.
"Gentlemen, we are not here for insignificant fights. Save your bard’s chatter or I’ll give you a beating."
The older agent coughed, looking at both of them.
His tone was tired.
Gabriel didn’t exactly understand what that meant. But he wasn’t stupid enough not to recognize a threat.
He also understood that it seemed genuine. Out of prudence, he decided to stay silent.
The older agent nodded, satisfied.
Then he adjusted his uniform slightly.
"We can understand each other, man to man."
Gabriel crossed his arms.
"Your friend is in good condition."
That caught his full attention.
"Where?"
"He is being treated. For confidential reasons, he was transferred to a special facility."
Gabriel felt his muscles tense.
"What kind of place was he transferred to?"
"Confidential. No questions."
His patience began to evaporate.
The silence stretched for several seconds. Finally, the man added:
"But he is in good hands."
Those words didn’t help much.
He immediately recognized the agent’s posture. They didn’t want to give any other answers.
He knew perfectly well how those situations ended.
He could protest, he could argue, and he could insist.
But he would still lose. Because they had authority and he didn’t.
In the world, backing was much more important than morals, many times.
Because the system was built precisely for that. Finally, he walked to where the box had fallen and picked it up.
It was slightly crushed.
Then he turned around and began to leave.
Before crossing the parking exit, he spat on the ground.
No one said anything.
***
The return was long and unpleasant.
The city seemed colder than usual. Every step slowly fed the irritation boiling inside him.
He remembered perfectly the warnings: constant monitoring and observation.
When he finally opened the door to his apartment, he was already angry. The door closed and the rage exploded.
A glass smashed against the wall, shattering. Glass fragments fell to the floor.
"Shit! Shit! Shit!"
The word repeated over and over.
His face was red.
He finally dropped into a chair. His hands covered his face and his fingers gripped his hair tightly.
Pulling and squeezing.
Trying to contain something he didn’t know how to express.
Silence returned slowly, with his breathing beginning to stabilize.
Minute after minute, until he finally exhaled heavily.
He was tired.
He picked up the device again, opened his conversation with Gabriel.
And wrote a message:
"Answer me."
Then he set the device aside.
He had to learn to control this. Emotions could be extremely harmful at the wrong times.
He stood up slowly, picking up the glass fragments. He swept the floor and cleaned the wall.
The apartment gradually returned to order.
And while he worked, one idea kept repeating in his head.
A persistent and uncomfortable suspicion.
Because he was doubting more and more where that government matter would lead him.
Beginning to wonder who was really watching from the shadows.
