𝙽𝚊𝚜 𝙴𝚗𝚝𝚛𝚎𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚑𝚊𝚜 𝙳𝚘𝚜 𝚃𝚎𝚞𝚜 𝙿𝚘𝚎𝚖𝚊𝚜

3° 𝚌𝚊𝚙𝚒́𝚝𝚞𝚕𝚘

-𝙾 𝚚𝚞𝚎 𝚊 𝚐𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚎 𝚟𝚊𝚒 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚛 𝚍𝚎 𝚌𝚊𝚏𝚎́ 𝚍𝚊 𝚖𝚊𝚗𝚑𝚊̃?
-𝙰𝚑, 𝚎𝚞...𝚗𝚊̃𝚘 𝚜𝚎𝚒.
-𝙾𝚚𝚞𝚎 𝚘𝚜 𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚘𝚗𝚊𝚐𝚎𝚗𝚜 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚛𝚊𝚖 𝚗𝚘 𝚌𝚊𝚏𝚎́ 𝚍𝚊 𝚖𝚊𝚗𝚑𝚊̃?
-𝙰𝚊𝚊𝚊𝚑....𝚙𝚊𝚗𝚚𝚞𝚎𝚌𝚊𝚜!
-𝙰𝚍𝚘𝚛𝚘 𝚙𝚊𝚗𝚚𝚞𝚎𝚌𝚊𝚜!
-𝙼𝚊𝚜 𝚊 𝚐𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚎 𝚟𝚊𝚒 𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚍𝚎 𝚏𝚊𝚣𝚎𝚛 𝚊 𝚖𝚊𝚜𝚜𝚊.
-𝙽𝚊̃𝚘 𝚚𝚞𝚎𝚛𝚘 𝚙𝚊𝚗𝚚𝚞𝚎𝚌𝚊𝚜!
-𝚂𝚘́ 𝚙𝚘𝚛𝚚𝚞𝚎 𝚙𝚛𝚎𝚌𝚒𝚜𝚊 𝚙𝚛𝚎𝚙𝚊𝚛𝚊𝚛?
-𝙸𝚜𝚜𝚘 𝚖𝚎𝚜𝚖𝚘.
𝙴𝚍𝚐𝚊𝚛 𝚘𝚕𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚊 𝚒𝚗𝚌𝚛𝚎́𝚍𝚞𝚕𝚘 𝚙𝚊𝚛𝚊 𝙴𝚍𝚘𝚐𝚊𝚠𝚊. 𝙲𝚘𝚖𝚘 𝚎́ 𝚚𝚞𝚎 𝚙𝚘𝚍𝚒𝚊 𝚎𝚡𝚒𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚛 𝚞𝚖 𝚜𝚎𝚛 𝚑𝚞𝚖𝚊𝚗𝚘 𝚝𝚊̃𝚘 𝚙𝚛𝚎𝚐𝚞𝚒𝚌̧𝚘𝚜𝚘?
-𝙰𝚘 𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚘𝚜 𝚟𝚎𝚗𝚑𝚊 𝚖𝚎 𝚏𝚊𝚣𝚎𝚛 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚙𝚊𝚗𝚑𝚒𝚊...
𝙴𝚍𝚐𝚊𝚛 𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚞 𝚞𝚖 𝚙𝚘𝚝𝚎 𝚍𝚎 𝚓𝚞𝚓𝚞𝚋𝚊𝚜 𝚊̀ 𝚏𝚛𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚎 𝚍𝚘 𝚛𝚘𝚜𝚝𝚘 𝚍𝚘 𝚍𝚎𝚝𝚎𝚝𝚒𝚟𝚎, 𝚚𝚞𝚎 𝚕𝚘𝚐𝚘 𝚜𝚎 𝚕𝚎𝚟𝚊𝚗𝚝𝚘𝚞.
-𝚃𝚊́ 𝚎𝚜𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚘 𝚘 𝚚𝚞𝚎̂, 𝙿𝚘𝚎? 𝚅𝚊𝚖𝚘𝚜!
-𝚅𝚘𝚌𝚎̂ 𝚎́ 𝚝𝚊̃𝚘 𝚒𝚗𝚏𝚕𝚞𝚎𝚗𝚏𝚒𝚊́𝚟𝚎𝚕 𝚚𝚞𝚎 𝚌𝚑𝚎𝚐𝚊 𝚊 𝚜𝚎𝚛 𝚋𝚒𝚣𝚊𝚛𝚛𝚘.
-𝚅𝚘𝚌𝚎̂ 𝚘𝚏𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚌𝚎𝚞 𝚍𝚘𝚌𝚎𝚜, 𝚗𝚊̃𝚘 𝚟𝚊𝚕𝚎. - 𝚎𝚕𝚎 𝚛𝚒𝚞 𝚎 𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚞 𝚊𝚜 𝚍𝚞𝚊𝚜 𝚖𝚊̃𝚘𝚜 𝚙𝚊𝚛𝚊 𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚊𝚛 𝚊𝚕𝚌𝚊𝚗𝚌̧𝚊𝚛 𝚘 𝚙𝚘𝚝𝚎.
𝙿𝚘𝚎 𝚍𝚎𝚞 𝚙𝚊𝚛𝚊 𝚁𝚊𝚖𝚙𝚘 𝚘 𝚙𝚘𝚝𝚎 𝚎 𝚎𝚖 𝚜𝚎𝚐𝚞𝚒𝚍𝚊 𝚙𝚎𝚐𝚘𝚞 𝚜𝚞𝚊 𝚖𝚊̃𝚘, 𝚘 𝚕𝚎𝚟𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚘 𝚊𝚝𝚎́ 𝚊̀ 𝚌𝚘𝚣𝚒𝚗𝚑𝚊. 𝙰𝚘 𝚘𝚕𝚑𝚊𝚛 𝚙𝚊𝚛𝚊 𝚝𝚛𝚊́𝚜, 𝚟𝚒𝚞 𝚘 𝚛𝚘𝚜𝚝𝚘 𝚌𝚘𝚛𝚊𝚍𝚘 𝚍𝚎 𝚁𝚊𝚖𝚙𝚘, 𝚎 𝚊𝚘 𝚜𝚎 𝚊𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚌𝚎𝚋𝚎𝚛 𝚍𝚘 𝚚𝚞𝚎 𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚑𝚊 𝚏𝚎𝚒𝚝𝚘, 𝚛𝚎𝚝𝚒𝚛𝚘𝚞 𝚜𝚞𝚊 𝚖𝚊̃𝚘 𝚊𝚙𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚜𝚊𝚍𝚊𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚎.
-𝙼..𝚖𝚎 𝚍𝚎𝚜𝚌𝚞𝚕--
-𝙽𝚊̃𝚘 𝚝𝚒𝚛𝚎.
𝚁𝚊𝚖𝚙𝚘 𝚊𝚐𝚊𝚛𝚛𝚘𝚞 𝚊 𝚖𝚊̃𝚘 𝚍𝚎 𝙴𝚍𝚐𝚊𝚛, 𝚊 𝚙𝚞𝚡𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚘 𝚙𝚊𝚛𝚊 𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚝𝚘 𝚍𝚎 𝚜𝚒. 𝙿𝚘𝚎 𝚘𝚕𝚑𝚘𝚞 𝚜𝚞𝚛𝚙𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚘 𝚙𝚊𝚛𝚊 𝚘 𝚊𝚝𝚘 𝚍𝚘 𝚊𝚖𝚒𝚐𝚘.
-𝙾𝚔.
𝙴𝚍𝚐𝚊𝚛 𝚎 𝚁𝚊𝚖𝚙𝚘 𝚌𝚊𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚑𝚊𝚛𝚊𝚖 𝚊𝚝𝚎́ 𝚊̀ 𝚌𝚘𝚣𝚒𝚗𝚑𝚊 𝚍𝚎 𝚖𝚊̃𝚘𝚜 𝚍𝚊𝚍𝚊𝚜.
𝑄𝑢𝑒 𝑒́ 𝑖𝑠𝑠𝑜? 𝑅𝑎𝑚𝑝𝑜 𝑒𝑠𝑡𝑎́ 𝑒𝑠𝑡𝑟𝑎𝑛ℎ𝑜...𝑚𝑎𝑠 𝑒𝑢 𝑔𝑜𝑠𝑡𝑒𝑖.

𝑂 𝑞𝑢𝑒 𝑒́ 𝑞𝑢𝑒 𝑒𝑢 𝑡𝑜𝑢 𝑓𝑎𝑧𝑒𝑛𝑑𝑜? 𝑃𝑜𝑟𝑞𝑢𝑒 𝑜 𝑡𝑜𝑞𝑢𝑒 𝑑𝑒𝑙𝑒 𝑒́ 𝑡𝑎̃𝑜 𝑞𝑢𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑒? 𝑃𝑜𝑟𝑞𝑢𝑒 𝑞𝑢𝑒𝑟𝑜 𝑡𝑎𝑛𝑡𝑜 𝑡𝑜𝑐𝑎𝑟-𝑙ℎ𝑒?

𝙲𝚑𝚎𝚐𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚘 𝚗𝚊 𝚌𝚘𝚣𝚒𝚗𝚑𝚊, 𝙴𝚍𝚐𝚊𝚛 𝚜𝚎 𝚊𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚡𝚒𝚖𝚘𝚞 𝚍𝚘 𝚊𝚛𝚖𝚊́𝚛𝚒𝚘, 𝚛𝚎𝚝𝚒𝚛𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚘 𝚊𝚕𝚐𝚞𝚗𝚜 𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚛𝚎𝚍𝚒𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚜.
-𝚁𝚊𝚖𝚙𝚘, 𝚟𝚊𝚒 𝚗𝚊 𝚐𝚎𝚕𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚒𝚛𝚊 𝚎 𝚙𝚎𝚐𝚊 𝚘𝚟𝚘𝚜, 𝚕𝚎𝚒𝚝𝚎 𝚎 𝚖𝚊𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚒𝚐𝚊 𝚙𝚊𝚛𝚊 𝚖𝚒𝚖, 𝚙𝚘𝚛 𝚏𝚊𝚟𝚘𝚛?
-𝚂𝚒𝚖, 𝚝𝚘𝚞 𝚒𝚗𝚍𝚘!
𝙴𝚍𝚐𝚊𝚛 𝚜𝚎𝚙𝚊𝚛𝚘𝚞 𝚏𝚊𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚑𝚊, 𝚊𝚌̧𝚞́𝚌𝚊𝚛, 𝚏𝚎𝚛𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚘 𝚎𝚖 𝚙𝚘́, 𝚎 𝚜𝚊𝚕.
𝙿𝚘𝚎 𝚝𝚒𝚛𝚘𝚞 𝚞𝚖𝚊 𝚝𝚊𝚌̧𝚊 𝚎 𝚏𝚘𝚒 𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚌𝚞𝚛𝚊𝚛 𝚞𝚖𝚊 𝚟𝚊𝚛𝚊 𝚍𝚎 𝚊𝚛𝚊𝚖𝚎𝚜.
-𝚁𝚊𝚖𝚙𝚘, 𝚌𝚘𝚕𝚘𝚚𝚞𝚎 𝚞𝚖 𝚙𝚘𝚞𝚌𝚘 𝚍𝚎 𝚝𝚞𝚍𝚘 𝚗𝚊 𝚝𝚊𝚌̧𝚊, 𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚘𝚜 𝚊 𝚖𝚊𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚒𝚐𝚊. 𝙾 𝚜𝚊𝚕 𝚎́ 𝚋𝚎𝚖 𝚙𝚘𝚞𝚌𝚘, 𝚘𝚔?
-𝚅𝚘𝚌𝚎̂ 𝚗𝚊̃𝚘 𝚜𝚊𝚋𝚎 𝚊𝚜 𝚚𝚞𝚊𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚍𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚜.
-𝙽𝚊̃𝚘, 𝚖𝚊𝚜 𝚗𝚊 𝚑𝚒𝚜𝚝𝚘́𝚛𝚒𝚊, 𝚘𝚜 𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚘𝚗𝚊𝚐𝚎𝚗𝚜 𝚝𝚊𝚖𝚋𝚎́𝚖 𝚗𝚊̃𝚘 𝚜𝚊𝚋𝚒𝚊𝚖 𝚎 𝚜𝚊𝚒𝚞 𝚋𝚎𝚖 𝚗𝚊 𝚖𝚎𝚜𝚖𝚊, 𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚊̃𝚘 𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚊́ 𝚝𝚞𝚍𝚘 𝚌𝚎𝚛𝚝𝚘.
-𝙾𝚔, 𝚟𝚘𝚞 𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚏𝚒𝚊𝚛.
𝙾 𝚍𝚎𝚝𝚎𝚝𝚒𝚟𝚎 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚌̧𝚘𝚞 𝚊 𝚏𝚊𝚣𝚎𝚛 𝚘 𝚚𝚞𝚎 𝚕𝚑𝚎 𝚏𝚘𝚒 𝚙𝚎𝚍𝚒𝚍𝚘 𝚙𝚘𝚛 𝙴𝚍𝚐𝚊𝚛 𝚎𝚗𝚚𝚞𝚊𝚗𝚝𝚘 𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚎 𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚌𝚞𝚛𝚊𝚟𝚊 𝚊 𝚟𝚊𝚛𝚊 𝚍𝚎 𝚊𝚛𝚊𝚖𝚎𝚜.
𝙿𝚊𝚜𝚜𝚊𝚛𝚊𝚖 𝚞𝚗𝚜 𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚞𝚝𝚘𝚜 𝚎 𝚘 𝚎𝚜𝚌𝚛𝚒𝚝𝚘𝚛 𝚊𝚌𝚑𝚘𝚞.
-𝙹𝚊́ 𝚌𝚘𝚕𝚘𝚌𝚘𝚞 𝚝𝚞𝚍𝚘?
-𝚂𝚒𝚖.
𝚁𝚊𝚖𝚙𝚘 𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚊̃𝚘 𝚜𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚞 𝙿𝚘𝚎 𝚙𝚊𝚜𝚜𝚊𝚛 𝚘𝚜 𝚋𝚛𝚊𝚌̧𝚘𝚜 𝚙𝚘𝚛 𝚌𝚒𝚖𝚊 𝚍𝚎 𝚜𝚒 𝚙𝚊𝚛𝚊 𝚖𝚒𝚜𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚊𝚛 𝚘𝚜 𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚛𝚎𝚍𝚒𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚜. 𝙾𝚜 𝚋𝚛𝚊𝚌̧𝚘𝚜 𝚍𝚎 𝙴𝚍𝚐𝚊𝚛 𝚖𝚘𝚟𝚒𝚊𝚖-𝚜𝚎 𝚊 𝚖𝚒𝚕𝚒́𝚖𝚎𝚝𝚛𝚘𝚜 𝚍𝚘 𝚛𝚘𝚜𝚝𝚘 𝚍𝚘 𝚍𝚎𝚝𝚎𝚝𝚒𝚟𝚎, 𝚖𝚊𝚜 𝚘 𝚎𝚜𝚌𝚛𝚒𝚝𝚘𝚛 𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚑𝚊 𝚌𝚞𝚒𝚍𝚊𝚍𝚘 𝚙𝚊𝚛𝚊 𝚗𝚊̃𝚘 𝚋𝚊𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚝𝚛𝚊 𝚘 𝚗𝚊𝚛𝚒𝚣 𝚍𝚘 𝚖𝚎𝚜𝚖𝚘 𝚎 𝚘 𝚖𝚊𝚌𝚑𝚞𝚌𝚊𝚛.
𝙲𝚘𝚖 𝚊 𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚡𝚒𝚖𝚒𝚍𝚊𝚍𝚎, 𝚁𝚊𝚖𝚙𝚘 𝚊𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚒𝚝𝚘𝚞 𝚙𝚊𝚛𝚊 𝚘 𝚘𝚋𝚜𝚎𝚛𝚟𝚊𝚛 𝚍𝚎 𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚝𝚘. 𝚂𝚎𝚞𝚜 𝚘𝚕𝚑𝚘𝚜 𝚎𝚜𝚌𝚞𝚛𝚘𝚜 𝚎 𝚋𝚛𝚒𝚕𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚜 𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚟𝚊𝚖 𝚏𝚘𝚌𝚊𝚍𝚘𝚜 𝚗𝚊 𝚝𝚒𝚐𝚎𝚕𝚊, 𝚜𝚎𝚞𝚜 𝚕𝚊́𝚋𝚒𝚘𝚜 𝚎𝚛𝚊𝚖 𝚏𝚒𝚗𝚘𝚜, 𝚜𝚎𝚞 𝚗𝚊𝚛𝚒𝚣 𝚎𝚛𝚊 𝚛𝚎𝚝𝚘 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚘 𝚞𝚖𝚊 𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚛𝚊𝚍𝚊. 𝚂𝚎𝚞𝚜 𝚌𝚊𝚋𝚎𝚕𝚘𝚜 𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚟𝚊𝚖 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚙𝚛𝚒𝚍𝚘𝚜, 𝚚𝚞𝚊𝚜𝚎 𝚌𝚑𝚎𝚐𝚊𝚟𝚊𝚖 𝚊𝚘𝚜 𝚘𝚖𝚋𝚛𝚘𝚜, 𝚎 𝚌𝚊𝚒́𝚊𝚖-𝚕𝚑𝚎 𝚊̀ 𝚏𝚛𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚎 𝚍𝚊 𝚏𝚊𝚌𝚎.
𝐸𝑙𝑒 𝑣𝑎𝑖 𝑠𝑒 𝑠𝑢𝑗𝑎𝑟, 𝚁𝚊𝚖𝚙𝚘 𝚙𝚎𝚗𝚜𝚘𝚞. 𝙴𝚗𝚝𝚊̃𝚘, 𝚌𝚘𝚕𝚘𝚌𝚘𝚞 𝚘𝚜 𝚏𝚒𝚘𝚜 𝚍𝚎 𝙿𝚘𝚎 𝚊𝚝𝚛𝚊́𝚜 𝚍𝚊 𝚜𝚞𝚊 𝚘𝚛𝚎𝚕𝚑𝚊. 𝙰𝚘 𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚌𝚎𝚋𝚎𝚛 𝚚𝚞𝚎 𝙴𝚍𝚐𝚊𝚛 𝚏𝚒𝚌𝚊𝚛𝚊 𝚊 𝚘𝚕𝚑𝚊𝚛 𝚙𝚊𝚛𝚊 𝚎𝚕𝚎, 𝚎𝚡𝚙𝚕𝚒𝚌𝚘𝚞:
-𝙴́ 𝚚𝚞𝚎 𝚜𝚎𝚞𝚜 𝚌𝚊𝚋𝚎𝚕𝚘𝚜 𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚟𝚊𝚖 𝚗𝚊 𝚏𝚛𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚎 𝚎 𝚎𝚞 𝚗𝚊̃𝚘 𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚜𝚎𝚐𝚞𝚒𝚊 𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚜𝚎𝚞 𝚛𝚘𝚜𝚝𝚘, 𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚊̃𝚘 𝚊𝚌𝚑𝚎𝚒 𝚚𝚞𝚎 𝚟𝚘𝚌𝚎̂ 𝚒𝚊 𝚜𝚎 𝚜𝚞𝚓𝚊𝚛.
-𝚃𝚊́, 𝚘𝚋𝚛𝚒𝚐𝚊𝚍𝚘. - 𝙴𝚍𝚐𝚊𝚛 𝚜𝚘𝚛𝚛𝚒𝚞 - 𝚚𝚞𝚎𝚛 𝚏𝚊𝚣𝚎𝚛 𝚞𝚖 𝚙𝚘𝚞𝚌𝚘?
-𝙿𝚘𝚍𝚎 𝚜𝚎𝚛.
𝙿𝚘𝚎 𝚙𝚊𝚜𝚜𝚘𝚞 𝚊 𝚟𝚊𝚛𝚊 𝚍𝚎 𝚊𝚛𝚊𝚖𝚎𝚜 𝚙𝚊𝚛𝚊 𝚁𝚊𝚖𝚙𝚘 𝚎 𝚜𝚎 𝚊𝚏𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚘𝚞 𝚞𝚖 𝚙𝚘𝚞𝚌𝚘. 𝚁𝚊𝚖𝚙𝚘 𝚏𝚒𝚌𝚘𝚞 𝚍𝚎𝚜𝚒𝚕𝚞𝚍𝚒𝚍𝚘, 𝚖𝚊𝚜 𝚗𝚊𝚍𝚊 𝚍𝚒𝚜𝚜𝚎.

-𝚁𝚊𝚖𝚙𝚘𝚘𝚘, 𝚊𝚜 𝚙𝚊𝚗𝚚𝚞𝚎𝚌𝚊𝚜 𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚊̃𝚘 𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚗𝚝𝚊𝚊𝚊𝚊𝚊𝚜!
-𝙾𝚔, 𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚘𝚞 𝚒𝚗𝚍𝚘𝚘𝚘!
𝚁𝚊𝚖𝚙𝚘 𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚘𝚞 𝚊𝚝𝚎́ 𝚊 𝚌𝚘𝚣𝚒𝚗𝚑𝚊 𝚙𝚊𝚛𝚊 𝚊𝚓𝚞𝚍𝚊𝚛 𝙴𝚍𝚐𝚊𝚛 𝚊 𝚕𝚎𝚟𝚊𝚛 𝚊 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚒𝚍𝚊 𝚊𝚝𝚎́ 𝚊̀ 𝚐𝚛𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚎 𝚖𝚎𝚜𝚊 𝚍𝚊 𝚜𝚊𝚕𝚊. 𝙴𝚍𝚘𝚐𝚊𝚠𝚊 𝚜𝚎𝚐𝚞𝚛𝚊𝚟𝚊 𝚗𝚘𝚜 𝚙𝚛𝚊𝚝𝚘𝚜 𝚙𝚎𝚕𝚊 𝚋𝚎𝚒𝚛𝚊 𝚚𝚘𝚛 𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚛𝚎𝚖 𝚚𝚞𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚜, 𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚊𝚟𝚊 𝚌𝚘𝚖 𝚌𝚞𝚒𝚍𝚊𝚍𝚘 𝚙𝚊𝚛𝚊 𝚗𝚊̃𝚘 𝚜𝚎 𝚚𝚞𝚎𝚒𝚖𝚊𝚛. 𝙿𝚘𝚒𝚜𝚘𝚞 𝚞𝚖 𝚗𝚊 𝚖𝚎𝚜𝚊 𝚎 𝚌𝚊𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚑𝚘𝚞 𝚊𝚝𝚎́ 𝚊𝚘 𝚘𝚞𝚝𝚛𝚘 𝚕𝚞𝚐𝚊𝚛.
-𝚁𝚊𝚖𝚙𝚘, 𝚘𝚗𝚍𝚎--
-𝙰𝙸𝙸𝙸𝙸𝙸 𝚀𝚄𝙴 𝚂𝚄𝚂𝚃𝙾! 𝙵𝚘𝚍𝚊-𝚜𝚎, 𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚑𝚊 𝚖𝚊̃𝚘!
-𝙰𝚑, 𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚍𝚊̃𝚘! 𝚅𝚘𝚌𝚎̂ 𝚝𝚊́ 𝚋𝚎𝚖?
𝙿𝚘𝚛 𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚛 𝚑𝚊𝚋𝚒𝚝𝚞𝚊𝚍𝚘 𝚊 𝚏𝚊𝚣𝚎𝚛 𝚘 𝚖𝚎𝚜𝚖𝚘 𝚌𝚘𝚖 𝙺𝚊𝚛𝚕 𝚚𝚞𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚘 𝚎𝚕𝚎 𝚜𝚎 𝚚𝚞𝚎𝚒𝚖𝚊𝚟𝚊, 𝙿𝚘𝚎 𝚗𝚊̃𝚘 𝚑𝚎𝚜𝚒𝚝𝚘𝚞 𝚎𝚖 𝚕𝚎𝚟𝚊𝚛 𝚁𝚊𝚖𝚙𝚘 𝚙𝚊𝚛𝚊 𝚊 𝚌𝚘𝚣𝚒𝚗𝚑𝚊 𝚎 𝚌𝚘𝚕𝚘𝚌𝚊𝚛 𝚊 𝚜𝚞𝚊 𝚖𝚊̃𝚘 𝚎𝚖 𝚋𝚊𝚒𝚡𝚘 𝚍𝚎 𝚊́𝚐𝚞𝚊 𝚏𝚛𝚒𝚊.
-𝙾𝚋𝚛𝚒𝚐𝚊𝚍𝚘.
-𝚃𝚞𝚍𝚘 𝚋𝚎𝚖, 𝚎𝚞 𝚝𝚘𝚞 𝚊𝚌𝚘𝚜𝚝𝚞𝚖𝚊𝚍𝚘 𝚊 𝚏𝚊𝚣𝚎𝚛 𝚘 𝚖𝚎𝚜𝚖𝚘 𝚌𝚘𝚖 𝚘 𝙺𝚊𝚛𝚕. 𝙴𝚕𝚎 𝚒𝚗𝚟𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚊 𝚜𝚎𝚖𝚙𝚛𝚎 𝚍𝚎 𝚒𝚛 𝚖𝚎𝚡𝚎𝚛 𝚗𝚊 𝚙𝚊𝚗𝚎𝚕𝚊 𝚚𝚞𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚘 𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚘𝚞 𝚏𝚊𝚣𝚎𝚗𝚍𝚘 𝚘 𝚓𝚊𝚗𝚝𝚊𝚛...
𝙸𝚗𝚟𝚘𝚕𝚞𝚗𝚝𝚊𝚛𝚒𝚊𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚎, 𝚘 𝚎𝚜𝚌𝚛𝚒𝚝𝚘𝚛 𝚋𝚎𝚒𝚓𝚘𝚞 𝚊 𝚖𝚊̃𝚘 𝚎 𝚊 𝚝𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚊 𝚍𝚎 𝚁𝚊𝚖𝚙𝚘.
-𝚅𝚎𝚖, 𝚁𝚊𝚖𝚙𝚘, 𝚟𝚊𝚖𝚘𝚜 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚛.
-𝚂𝚒𝚖...
𝐸𝑙𝑒 𝑏𝑒𝑖𝑗𝑜𝑢 𝑚𝑖𝑛ℎ𝑎 𝑚𝑎̃𝑜? 𝐸 𝑚𝑖𝑛ℎ𝑎 𝑡𝑒𝑠𝑡𝑎? 𝑃𝑜𝑟𝑞𝑢𝑒 𝑒𝑢 𝑡𝑜𝑢 𝑠𝑢𝑟𝑡𝑎𝑛𝑑𝑜? 𝑀𝑒𝑢 𝑟𝑜𝑠𝑡𝑜 𝑒𝑠𝑡𝑎́ 𝑞𝑢𝑒𝑖𝑚𝑎𝑛𝑑𝑜 𝑚𝑢𝑖𝑡𝑜!
-𝙰𝚜 𝚜𝚞𝚊𝚜 𝚙𝚊𝚗𝚚𝚞𝚎𝚌𝚊𝚜 𝚌𝚊𝚒́𝚛𝚊𝚖, 𝚗𝚊̃𝚘 𝚏𝚘𝚒?
-𝙽𝚊̃𝚘, 𝚎𝚞 𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚜𝚎𝚐𝚞𝚒 𝚜𝚊𝚕𝚟𝚊𝚛.
-𝙾́𝚝𝚒𝚖𝚘.
𝙾𝚜 𝚍𝚘𝚒𝚜 𝚜𝚎 𝚜𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚊𝚛𝚊𝚖 𝚎 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚌̧𝚊𝚛𝚊𝚖 𝚊 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚛. 𝚁𝚊𝚖𝚙𝚘 𝚙𝚊𝚛𝚝𝚒𝚞 𝚞𝚖 𝚙𝚎𝚍𝚊𝚌̧𝚘, 𝚎 𝚊𝚘 𝚕𝚎𝚟𝚊́-𝚕𝚘 𝚊̀ 𝚋𝚘𝚌𝚊, 𝚞𝚖𝚊 𝚎𝚡𝚙𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚜𝚊̃𝚘 𝚜𝚞𝚛𝚙𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚊 𝚝𝚘𝚖𝚘𝚞 𝚜𝚎𝚞 𝚛𝚘𝚜𝚝𝚘.
-𝙽𝚊̃𝚘 𝚎́ 𝚚𝚞𝚎 𝚏𝚒𝚌𝚘𝚞 𝚋𝚘𝚖 𝚖𝚎𝚜𝚖𝚘?