Little Pedro

My phone buzzed with a short message:

"Miss Clara, tomorrow at 8 AM. Jardim Imperial, house 25. Use the social entrance."

No name. Just an unknown number.

The next morning, I woke before sunrise. I put on the most presentable outfit I owned: dark jeans, a plain white blouse, and a jacket that was starting to show its age. My shoes were clean but betrayed years of wear. On the way there, my hands wouldn't stop sweating.

Two buses and a subway later, I finally reached the address. It was another world. The upscale neighborhood looked like something out of a magazine — gated entrances with security guards, imported cars gliding along tree-lined streets. I swallowed hard and kept walking until I stood before an enormous wrought-iron gate. The wall was so high I could barely make out the treetops beyond it.

I pressed the buzzer. The sound echoed, metallic. A few seconds later, the gate unlocked on its own. My heart raced.

I stepped inside. The path was flanked by an immaculate garden, white statues, and a fountain flowing with crystal-clear water. At the end of the lane, the mansion emerged. Enormous. Roman-style. White columns supporting the facade, massive windows, solid wood doors. It looked like a movie set, and for a moment I felt like I didn't belong.

At the entrance, the same recruiter was waiting. Impeccable in her gray suit, clipboard in hand.

"Good morning, Miss Clara." Her tone was dry, professional. "Your test results came back within the expected range. If you're hired, some will need to be repeated every three months, others annually. Standard procedure."

I just nodded, swallowing the strangeness of it all.

"Follow me."

She entered the mansion and I followed. The hallways were wide, decorated with Persian rugs and crystal chandeliers. Every step I took echoed, reminding me I didn't belong here.

"Here."

She opened a door to a room.

I walked in.

"Change, please." She pointed to a folded uniform on the counter. Navy blue pants in light fabric, a matching shirt, and a white apron. "When you're done, meet me in the hallway." She left. I closed the door.

The room was medium-sized — still much bigger than mine. A window overlooking the front entrance. And a door.

I went to it and opened it — a bathroom. Far bigger than the one at home. An enormous vanity, everything in white marble, the faucet and fixtures all gold. Maybe actual gold. A frosted window for privacy. The scent of lavender hung in the air. Everything white, clean, flawless.

I went back to the room and held the uniform against my chest. For a moment, I thought of Mom and my siblings. The shared mattress. The empty table. I exhaled and changed. The fabric was tight across my shoulders, but when I looked in the mirror I felt like I was no longer just Clara — I was about to become part of Enrico's household.

I changed quickly, folded the clothes I'd worn, and left them on the counter. I opened the door and found her waiting.

In the hallway, the recruiter led me to a spacious room flooded with natural light. A TV played cartoons, beige leather sofas lined the walls, and shelves held books and toys carefully organized in bins. On the soft carpet, sitting cross-legged, was the boy.

Small. Delicate. His gaze distant. He clutched a crocheted frog and sucked on a pacifier while staring at the screen. His eyes were large, brown — but they carried a sadness unusual for someone so young.

"This is Pedro." The recruiter introduced him without bending down, without softening her voice. "He's calm, but he doesn't speak yet. He points at objects. He's being followed by specialists. There's a suspected disorder, but no confirmed diagnosis."

She glanced at her watch, impatient.

"I have other matters to attend to. I'll leave you with him." She walked out, closing the door behind her.

I stood there, frozen. The only sound was the cheerful voices from the cartoon. The boy didn't look at me. He held the frog against his chest like a treasure.

I approached slowly and sat on the carpet at a respectful distance. Said nothing. Just watched the screen alongside him. A character slipped and fell, and a laugh escaped me.