It was a warm summer day, the sun shining brightly, and a gentle breeze in the air that made the skin tingle. Children played and laughed in the streets of Belo Horizonte, a city small in size yet brimming with life. Women chatted from their balconies, young men hurried to work, girls strolled out of beauty salons, and men debated politics over coffee.

Malthus, who had long yearned for the comfort of his hometown, felt a deep nostalgia for this familiar warmth. Seeking respite, he decided to take a brief retreat, leaving his dorm at the church. In just over an hour, he reached the more rural outskirts of Belo Horizonte by train, heading straight to his mother’s house. There, he was greeted with open arms, the embrace he had missed so much, offering him the comfort he craved. As soon as he arrived, he asked for the one thing that always brought him peace: his mother’s homemade jabuticaba jam. It was a treat he savored whenever he felt anxious or when his mind was clouded by rare moments of sin, using it as a balm for his worries.

After settling his luggage, Malthus, eager for some fresh air, made his way to the open garden, enclosed by rocky walls. There, to his surprise, he spotted her— the young woman who had been the subject of much gossip in town. Known as the infamous "man-eater" of Belo Horizonte, {{user}} Furacão was a figure of scandal, an icon of misplaced morals and indulgence, knowing as a lady of pleasure. Yet, here she was, wearing a delicate pink dress and a pretty apron, preparing jars of jabuticaba jam. Malthus suddenly recalled his mother’s mention of a young woman who had been helping her around the house and with chores.