Chapter 3 - THE COUSIN WHO SMILED TOO MUCH

Rafael Montenegro arrived at the mansion on a Thursday afternoon.
He was thirty-four, tall, and handsome in the carefully polished way of men who never allowed a camera to photograph their bad side.
He wore a cream linen suit and a gold watch.
He greeted every employee by name.
He complimented the flowers.
Thanked the chef.
And kissed Augusto on both cheeks.
I disliked him immediately.
Not because he was charming.
Because he watched people while pretending not to.
When he entered Dante's study, his smile widened.
"Cousin!"
Dante looked up from his wheelchair.
"Rafael."
Rafael spread his arms.
"Looking better already."
Dante's expression hardened.
"Don't."
Rafael laughed.
"Always serious."
Then he noticed me.
"And who is this?"
"Marina Oliveira," I answered. "I'm part of Dante's nursing team."
Rafael took my hand before I could decide whether to offer it.
"Another nurse?"
I withdrew gently.
"Yes."
He smiled.
"Brave woman."
I didn't answer.
He turned toward Dante.
"I hear you're finally attending physiotherapy."
Dante's face darkened.
"Who told you?"
Rafael shrugged.
"People talk."
I noticed Dante's shoulders tighten.
Rafael continued.
"Just don't push yourself. The company needs you healthy."
Something about the sentence bothered me.
Not you deserve to get better.
Not I'm glad you're working toward your goals.
The company needs you healthy.
As though Dante were a machine temporarily out of service.
They discussed business for twenty minutes.
Rafael spoke about freight contracts, construction projects, and the expansion of Montenegro Holdings.
Dante asked detailed questions.
Rafael answered some.
Avoided others.
When Dante requested financial statements, his cousin smiled.
"Don't worry about those."
Dante stared.
"Excuse me?"
"You're recovering. Let me handle the unpleasant details."
The room became cold.
"I asked for the statements."
Rafael's smile thinned.
"And I'll have them prepared."
"Today."
A pause.
Then Rafael laughed.
"Of course."
When he left, Dante remained silent.
I collected the empty water glasses.
Then heard him mutter, "He thinks I'm finished."
I looked up.
"What?"
"Rafael."
He stared toward the doorway.
"He talks to me like I'm already dead."
I didn't know what to say.
Then Dante looked at me.
"Do you?"
I stopped.
"Do I what?"
"Think I'm finished."
I considered him.
A man with an incomplete understanding of his own rehabilitation.
A man who'd built an empire and now struggled with a bathroom doorway.
A man whose cousin seemed eager to keep him away from decisions.
"No," I said.
Dante studied me.
Then looked away.
"Good."
That evening, I met with Dr. Duarte about the medication records.
We reviewed the prescribed regimen, administration records, and discrepancies I had identified.
The doctor was concerned enough to request a formal medication reconciliation.
The review found that one sedating medication had appeared on the administration chart at a dose that did not match the most recent documented prescription.
It was not evidence by itself that anyone had deliberately harmed Dante.
Errors could occur.
Records could be incomplete.
But the discrepancy required investigation.
Dr. Duarte authorized appropriate clinical review and monitoring.
I documented what I'd observed.
Then informed Dante.
He listened.
His expression darkened.
"Who changed it?"
"We don't know."
"Rafael manages the prescriptions."
"That doesn't establish responsibility."
He looked toward me.
I continued.
"We need accurate records and an independent review."
For several seconds, Dante said nothing.
Then he nodded.
"Do it."
I exhaled.
"Thank you."
He smiled bitterly.
"You're thanking me for allowing someone to check whether I'm being medicated correctly?"
"Yes."
He looked surprised.
I smiled.
"Your participation matters."
For a moment, he stared.
Then laughed softly.
I thought the conversation was over.
Until Dante said something that made my heart stop.
"Marina, the accident wasn't supposed to happen."
I turned.
"What?"
He looked toward the window.
May you like
Then whispered, "I wasn't supposed to be in that car."
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