That night, the twins returned home in silence, disturbed by the discovery. They didn’t tell their father, but they kept chewing over the mystery. Who was that boy? Why was Benedita hiding him, and why did he look so much like them despite his darker skin?
Benedito, always impulsive, decided to investigate. He began to watch Benedita, following her discreetly. And one night, he saw her leaving the slave quarters with a bundle of food, walking toward the woods. He followed her, hiding behind trees until he saw her enter the shack. He heard muffled voices and then heard something that turned his blood to ice. “My son, soon you will understand why you have to stay hidden, but know that you are as important as anyone in that Big House.”
Benedito ran back, his heart racing, his mind racing. He woke Bernardino in the middle of the night and told him what he had heard. “She called him her son and said he is as important as we are.” Bernardino’s eyes widened. “But that makes no sense. Why would a slave say that?” The two stayed awake until dawn, trying to put the puzzle together. And gradually, the pieces began to fit. The boy was roughly the same age as
