The Invisible Scar
Rosa's hand trembled as she pulled aside the blouse. What she saw made her stomach churn. A dark, putrid stain, the size of an orange, dominated Lorena's back. The surrounding skin was red and swollen, with dark lines spreading like spiderwebs. In the center, something yellowish and viscous oozed.
The smell was unmistakable: a severe infection, the smell of death. Behind them, Roberto Almeida, owner of three construction companies and a fortune of 87 million reais, turned as white as a sheet. His hands went to his head. "My God," he whispered. "How did this happen?"
But let me tell you how we got to this point.
