Chapter 6 Facing the consequences!

The police car made the short journey to the police station in record time, its sirens cutting through the silence of the night. Before I could get used to the sterile and intimidating environment, I was led to a private room. Its interior was cold and Spartan, in stark contrast to the warm night outside.

Before me sat a burly police officer. He was an imposing figure with broad shoulders and eyes that seemed capable of seeing straight through me. His expression was one of pure objectivity—a professional mask that revealed no emotion.

"What's your name?" The question came from his lips mechanically, as if he had asked that question hundreds of times before. As if he had heard every possible lie imaginable. I could lie, of course, but I knew it wouldn't get me anywhere.

"Eugênio Lopes." I pronounced my name with deliberate clarity, feeling the words roll off my tongue. I could have used my mother's surname, but I chose to be honest. For now.

"All right... How old are you? Have you had any run-ins with the police before?" He began jotting down on a dusty piece of paper, the tip of his pen gliding smoothly over the rough surface.

"No, I'm 20 years old." I responded promptly, trying to keep my voice steady. I could feel his eyes bearing down on me, as if trying to extract the truth from me.

"All right. Now, I want to know why you assaulted your aunt's husband, why you attacked him." He stopped writing, letting the pen rest on the paper. His gaze was now fixed on me, waiting for an answer.

I could, of course, choose to lie, but I knew it would only worsen an already delicate and complex situation. "When my aunt hugged me, I noticed something deeply disturbing," I began, my heart pounding in my chest. "She seemed different, altered in some way. Upon closer observation, I noticed several bruises scattered across her body. I became convinced that someone was hurting her. I couldn't contain myself; I simply reacted to what I saw."

The police officer, a man of impenetrable expression, looked at me, and I couldn't decipher what was going on in his mind. His face remained impassive, the profile of a statue, giving no hints of his thoughts.

"So, you decided to take justice into your own hands, didn't you?" The officer said, his voice tinged with a strange mix of pity and disapproval. "I imagine it was anger speaking louder, but even so, you'll have to face the consequences." It was evident that he was following protocol, but I could see a trace of sympathy in his eyes. Nonetheless, the law is the law, and I was there, facing a possible attempted murder charge.

"I know," I replied, my voice low and weary. If only I had known things earlier, I could have settled the score with Rafael as well. That repugnant figure that now occupied my thoughts with seething hatred. And my mother, she was not exempt from my resentment. For God's sake, why didn't my aunt talk about what she was going through?

I was interrupted by rhythmic knocks on the door. Knock knock. "His family is here," another police officer announced, entering the room. His eyes turned to me, filled with carefully restrained curiosity.

"Bring his father and mother in, please," the seated officer instructed, without breaking eye contact with me.

"Only the mother and aunt came. They said the father is accompanying the aunt's husband to the hospital," the standing officer informed, a strange expression crossing his face. The seated officer furrowed his brow, clearly puzzled. Apparently, the woman chose to see the nephew who had assaulted her husband instead of accompanying her own injured spouse to the hospital.

"Bring both of them here," the officer ordered, his voice echoing in the cold, faded walls of the station. He called out to his colleague who was already moving to comply: "Wait!" The command stopped the colleague in his tracks. "Just bring his aunt. Please." The officer nodded, his hardened face softening slightly, and he disappeared to fetch my aunt.

In no time, the door creaked open, and my aunt entered. "Eugênio..." she whispered, her voice hoarse with surprise and panic. Her eyes scanned the room before settling on the police officer.

"Mrs. Paula, right?" The officer asked, his voice gentle but laden with the gravity of the situation. "Your nephew just mentioned something about you. We wanted to verify if it's true." Panic flashed in my aunt's eyes, her beautiful dark eyes locking onto mine. Was she fearing that I had revealed our secret; that she had tried to kiss me?

"What-what would that be?" She stammered, her face pale with fear, her voice trembling. She swallowed hard, visibly nervous, trying to hide the fear that was clearly written on her face.

Panic washed over her face like a cold wave, contorting her features into a mask of fear. Yes, she had done it, tried to kiss me. But the bright beacon of consciousness illuminated every corner of the truth in her mind; she knew what she had done. So, there was no reason for that freezing fear that now gripped her.

The police officer, a man of impassive expression and eyes hardened by time and difficult experiences, turned to her, his voice grave and firm, breaking the tense silence. "He told me you're suffering physical violence," he began, each word weighing in the air like a concrete block. "I wanted to know if it's from your husband."

The accusation landed on her like an uncontrolled wrecking ball, causing her to tremble with fear and surprise. Her eyes, once filled with fear, were now brimming with tears, filling them with a wet and desperate shine. She stared at the police officer, her face pale in stark contrast to her red and swollen eyes.

"Y-yes..." she managed to murmur, her words trembling in the air like her body. Tears streamed down her face, hot and wet trails on her cold skin, as she continued to shake, every part of her shaken by fear and the reality of her situation.

The police officer looked at her, his eyes softening just a touch, in an almost imperceptible gesture of empathy. He stood up, walked to the door, and called for one of the officers waiting outside. "Please, take Mrs. Paula to a separate room. We'll need a detailed statement about the situation."

The officer nodded, escorting my aunt out of the room. She cast one last glance at me, an expression overflowing with apologies and sorrow, before being led away.

The room fell silent for a moment, only the sound of the clock on the wall breaking the tense emptiness. The police officer sat back down, looking at me with a thoughtful expression.

"Eugênio," he began, his voice calm but firm, "your actions were driven by anger and the need to protect someone you love. But you need to understand that justice has its mechanisms to deal with these situations."

"I know," I murmured, my voice low. I knew he was right, but still, anger and frustration were boiling inside me.

"You're being charged with physical assault. Depending on the condition of your aunt's husband, you may be facing an attempted murder charge," he continued, his eyes never leaving mine. "You'll need a lawyer."

I swallowed hard, his words echoing in my mind. I had let anger consume me, and now I was facing the consequences of my actions.

"I understand," I whispered, the reality of the situation weighing on me like a heavy stone.

"We'll contact your family and inform them of the situation. You'll be held here until we can arrange a hearing for you," the officer concluded, getting up from his chair.

I was led to a cell, the cold metal against my skin sending shivers down my spine. The silence of the night was interrupted only by the distant sound of sirens, a constant reminder of the reality I was now facing. The night passed slowly, each second dragging like a minute, each minute like an hour.

As I lay on the hard bed, staring at the dark ceiling, I couldn't help but think of my aunt. I hoped she was safe, that she was getting the help she needed. I hoped that in the end, all of this would be worth it. Because in the end, I would have done it all over again to protect her.