“I’ve already sold the land. You have three days to leave.” Dona Conceição pressed the cell phone to her ear. Her lifeless eyes hadn’t cried in years, but her hands were trembling.

That’s all. The rest stays with the property,” the woman replied without looking up. “Please hurry. We need to take measurements before nightfall.”

A neighbor, Dona Amparo, came running.

“— Conceição, what’s happening? Why are people measuring your house?”

“— They sold it.”

“— Who did?”

“— My son… the doctor.”

Amparo held her arm.

“— And where is he?”

“— I continue reading …