Calling From The Sea

By Aliana Zenon and M.P. Lombritto

What if the forces of evil could be bought and sold at a spirit market? “Calling From The Sea” is a novel of supernatural suspense set in the sophisticated world of fine arts and high fashion photography.

Girl meets boy beneath the New Year’s fireworks at Copacabana Beach. And from the moment these two set eyes on each other, there are tears in heaven.

A beautiful artist travels the length of Brazil seeking happiness and tranquility of the spirit. Along the way she finds love and creates a masterpiece; eventually, she is crushed and betrayed by Julia, her oldest friend.

Laura, a world famous sculptress, moves heaven and earth to rescue the soul of her lover. Laura’s lover, Gabriel, succumbs to the hatred and envy of Julia. Can Gabriel save himself? Will Julia kill his spirit before he finds redemption?

Somehow, against all expectations, Gabriel’s ruin leads him to paradise.

Wonderful dramas unfold within the temples of Afro-Brazilian worship. Horrifying rituals take place among the tombstones of darkened cemeteries. The twin menaces of human jealousy and spirit possession cast their shadows over vulnerable non-believers, bringing disaster on the innocent and guilty alike.

Laura flies from her misery to San Francisco, California, where she is restored by the love of a fellow artist. Along the way she triumphs in a new field of artistry.

By Aliana Zenon and M.P. Lombritto.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Aliana Zenon
• Release date: Apr 18, 2015
• ISBN: 9781311655813

Aliana Zenon

Aliana Zenon is a Brazilian national who enjoys writing about her homeland's culture. She is also a photographer who uses self-portraits as a medium of self-expression. Her name is a nom de plume, an artistic alter ego that helps inspire and motivate her art.Afro-Brazilian religions are common themes in her fiction and photography books. They are mainly a celebration of the cult of Yemanja, the Goddess of the Sea.

Book preview

PART I

CHAPTER 1

Gabriel switched on the bedside lamp. Desperate for sleep, he looked at his jacket and trousers. They were draped over a chair.

He got out of bed and took a half-pint bottle from the jacket pocket, uncapped it and drank a few ounces. He reached in the trouser pocket for a pill. He took that too.

Gabriel heard Laura get up for her morning walk. He glanced at his watch; it was just after six in the morning.

Still restless, Gabriel decided to try a warm bath. He brought the whisky and trousers with him to the bathroom. Waiting for the tub to fill, Gabriel drank off the whisky and swallowed half the pills. He adjusted the water flow (to get the temperature just right) and eased into the bathtub.

Gabriel closed his eyes and slumped down in the tub. In another moment his head went under. By then he’d already stopped breathing.

Gabriel’s spirit traveled; it swam between conscious and unconscious worlds. His mind still operated. He understood he was leaving the earth and, grasping at his vanishing life, he schemed desperately for a way to undo the inevitable. Motionless in the warm water, Gabriel realized that his soul existed (knew it with the certainty of death).

Laura flashed in his thoughts. So did his parents, and Claudio, and Dona Marina. Finally, Julia washed in and out of Gabriel’s mind like eddies in a stream.

Gabriel’s body and mind left this world. He slipped away, down and down, far beneath the pea-green bath tub, becoming part of a parallel world.

Gabriel sank, slowly, weightlessly into the shadows of a depthless ocean. Far below he saw a green light, it was incredibly bright, like a pathway that guided his descent. Yemanja waited, her arms open. Gabriel descended to the Goddess of the Sea.

CHAPTER 2

Months earlier…

Sunset blushed behind the city of Rio de Janeiro. Laura stood holding a pair of slippers in one hand and a bouquet of white roses in the other. She smiled and waited for the perfect opportunity to toss her beautiful flowers, one by one, into the Atlantic Ocean, to offer her bouquet to Yemanja.

Laura’s bare feet patted the warm sand of Copacabana Beach. She was dressed all in white, the Goddess’s favorite color. Laura kissed her roses. Amidst the drumbeats, chants, and dancing, she made her New Year’s wishes.

Laura stood amongst the bystanders and street vendors on a knoll of sand some distance from the ocean. She listened to the songs of Yemanja and watched the mothers-and-fathers-of-saints dancing to the African drums.

Following the drumbeats, Laura moved closer to the water. She noticed a group of people dressed in red and black singing, dancing and clapping their hands around a circle of red and black candles. The dancers laughed stridently. Twisting their own arms behind their backs, they bent their bodies forward, randomly falling to their knees (a symbolic gesture of control and submission).

A woman standing near Laura cried out to the spirits, Laroié, Exus and Pombagiras!

Laura nodded to the woman and tried to move away, but a crowd of people blocked Laura’s way.

One of the women from the circle came close, looking long and hard into Laura’s eyes.

So beautiful and lucky! I can see you fly…

Embarrassed by the woman’s remark, Lara said:

Why do you say that?

We, Pombagiras, know everything.

Disturbed, yet intrigued, by the woman’s intense eyes, Laura said:

What do you want from me?

You. I want you.

Laura froze, speechless. She finally murmured, Please go now. Go in peace.

I’ll go… But I’ll come back.

The stranger stepped aside; and Laura walked away as fast as she could.

**********

A silver-haired man holding his grand-daughter’s hand, offered Laura champagne. Happy for the distraction, Laura set down her slippers to accept the glass. The child waved gaily at Laura. The little girl wore a white pinafore dress and white gloves. To hold back her dark hair, she draped a silken scarf (also white) around her head.

The girl hopped from one foot to the other, partly from excitement, but also to mimic a young man down by the water. The young man danced a water dance in the hissing surf, slapping his feet in the wet sand.

Grandpa, said the girl, why is he hopping in the waves?

The old man smiled, Look! Now he is skipping, Princesa. Seven times he skips and each time he makes a wish.

Laura nodded and said, He must remember to turn away from the sea after his dance, otherwise the Goddess will be disappointed and will ignore his wishes.

The young man did turn away. He cried out in joy. His shout was one more city-sound that blended with the calls of vendors selling everything from Yemanja beads to beer, his voice sounded amidst the drumbeats and music, the taxi horns and auto engines, another note in the symphony of celebration.

Unlike the dark dramas of the Pombagiras, here was happiness and hope, love, and Goddess-worship, all played out on the crowded strip of sand between Rio’s towering buildings and the vast ocean.

Along with the hopping man, the grandfather, his little Princesa, and Laura, millions of others came to the soft white beaches, the wide rivers and many lakes of Brazil to greet the New Year. They held flowers, lit candles, and wrote prayers on slips of paper. They prayed and sang the songs of their Goddess.

Laura had many expectations for the coming year. She yearned for a fresh start, especially for her love life. A chain of uninspiring suitors had come and gone. For Laura they were like the ocean tides, wave after wave of uninspiring men, always different but always the same.

Laura shook off her negative thoughts and surrendered herself to the spirit of celebration (always sky-high along the shore of Copacabana Beach). Everyone was happy and hopeful, everyone felt blessed.

CHAPTER 3

Destino! Destiny shows her face!

Laura felt a strong, warm body press tenderly against her from behind. A gentle hand rested on her shoulder. A soft kiss touched her throat.

Laura felt a hot flush come to face. She froze. For a second she thought it was the touch of that strange woman from the circle. Laura whirled angrily to face a grinning Gabriel.

Laura hadn’t seen Gabriel in three years, not since the exhibition of Laura’s art held at the A. J. Baskov Gallery in New York City. Gabriel had tried to contact Laura after the exhibition, to explain things, but Laura was distant. She was dating someone, the latest in a string of disappointing boyfriends.

Laura and Gabriel had a history. They first met seven years earlier at the São Paulo Museum of Modern Art. It was an important showing of Laura’s sculptures, one of her earliest world-class exhibits.

Gabriel ran a photographic studio in São Paulo with a partner, Claudio Nunes. He was there taking photographs for an art magazine.

Laura and Gabriel were attracted to each other instantly. They had a passionate relationship that lasted almost a year followed by a painful break-up. (Laura discovered that Gabriel had betrayed her with another woman, a woman whose identity would astound Laura some years later.)

Gabriel’s appearance at Copacabana confused Laura. What brought him back to Rio on New Year’s Eve, of all times?

Try as she did to resist it, Laura was thrilled by his sudden appearance. She wondered about Gabriel’s feelings for her as well.

Laura inhaled the perfume of the white roses. She smiled at the bottle of champagne he carried, For Yemanja? she asked.

He nodded. Gabriel had learned the lore of Yemanja while dating Laura. And though a skeptic, he acquired a sneaking affection for this most popular icon of Afro-Brazilian faith.

You startled me, said Laura, still fighting her feelings. What are you doing here?

I’ve come to honor the Goddess, like everyone else, said Gabriel and gestured towards the beach, towards the tanned bodies covered by white clothing, milling and dancing on the tawny sand beside the bronze-green water. Gabriel knew he would find Laura at this place.

I love it here, said Laura, gazing at the noisy festival cavorting around her.

The pounding of religious drums, the whistling, chanting faces, the twisting bodies: all these sounds and motions washed over her. The festival unfolded like a canvas of Brazil, a history painting depicting love, hope, greed and reverence. It thrilled Laura to be part of the jaunty worship and good fellowship, to be amidst a celebration of the national spirit as familiar and glamorous as Sugar Loaf Mountain.

Have you had your grapes? asked Gabriel

Laura giggled. She had, she’d eaten delicious red grapes with her friends. On New Year’s people often ate grapes, usually seven, often keeping the seeds in their wallets to ensure cash flow in the coming year.

Some years earlier, Laura had brought Gabriel to celebrate New Year’s at the same lovely spot on Copacabana Beach. Laura lived just across the street in her apartment that doubled as an art studio. Unless she was out of town, Laura religiously joined the thousands of New Year’s cariocas celebrating the wild, protective, Mother-Spirit of Yemanja.

It’s sweet that you remember this spot, said Laura. I’m touched.

It is you who has touched me. That is why I’ve come to honor the Goddess.

Because of me?

I’m a believer.

Since when? Laura laughed.

Yemanja is just too charming to resist. I’ve become a bit of a mystic.

I don’t believe it, said Laura.

I adore the location, the ritual, the jumps for good luck, the skips of the seven waves, the grapes….

During the fireworks, Laura planned to squeeze through the crowd to the beach shore and skip her seven waves so that Yemanja might open a new path for her life.

Laura blushed happily and gestured at Gabriel’s flowers, You, gifting the Goddess, is almost as surprising as seeing you here tonight.

Some of these flowers are for the Goddess. Some of them are for—my little goddess—you. Since I am back in your magical city I told myself, ‘When in Rio, do as the cariocas do...’ do you think Yemanja will accept my homage?

Who is Yemanja to refuse you? asked Laura laughing. Her sense of majesty recognizes any sincere offering—the flowers are beautiful, thank you.

Gabriel bowed gracefully.

Now tell me, seriously, what really brings you to Rio? asked Laura.

A job, what else? High fashion photography: haute couture, teenaged girls, tall as trees, wearing high heels and little else. My business partner Claudio arranged it—also I missed you. How much motivation does a man need?

Besides teen models…

You know I love you. You’ve no idea how bad I feel about what had happened. How I regret….

Gabriel, don’t explain, especially tonight. Let’s just enjoy the excitement of Yemanja. It’s so lovely, there’s so much to see and experience. We’ll talk about the past another time.

Gabriel nodded: Your wish is my desire, my goddess. I did not come to upset you. I’d like to spend some time with you while I’m here. I have to be in São Paulo next week, another assignment.

A loud explosion interrupted their conversation. Roaring flames of hot light ignited the sky, kicking off a gaudy display as deafening and insistent as the festival itself.

Fire-bright colors appeared like jewel boxes in the sky. Thousands cheered, kissed their neighbor, and toasted the New Year in champagne. It was midnight. Many threw flowers into the ocean, others went to their knees.

The air shook and smelled of smoke, as fountain-like blasts of emerald light flowed sky-high in the summer night. The exploding heavens lighted thousands of upturned faces. The sea a blazing garden as it reflected from a mile high the pink and white openings of great, fairy-tale roses.

One following the other, chariots of speeding torches ascended the heavens and thundered into massive life. Flowery plumes detonated and expanded into fiery hues, an uproar that revealed clouds and obliterated the stars.

Magnificent tendrils of wild light connected the sky, sand, water, and horizon—overwhelming the lights of Rio City. After the last explosions, (a delirious crescendo) the crowd’s voice murmured through its echoes. Great fumes of black smoke departed on warm breezes. Stars and a sickle moon revealed themselves.

Everyone on the beach hoped for an outstanding year and more love. The shoreline was scattered with flowers, lighted candles, combs, mirrors, and bottles of cheap perfume, all gifts for Yemanja.

Laura believed Yemanja was everywhere, but especially so during these events. She could feel the Goddess to the point of physical presence. For Laura, the Goddess was a protecting and guiding spirit, especially during times of self-doubt and sorrow.

And Yemanja watched, present as a ribbon of glowing moon along the water’s surface.

Laura and Gabriel made their way to the ocean. They stood with the thousands tossing flowers and wishes into the sea. And Yemanja, the goddess-protector of every woman, man, and child, caught them all.

Laura and Gabriel came away from the crowded shore. Hand in hand they walked toward the lights of the city.

CHAPTER 4

As one of seven Orishas in the sacred tradition of Umbanda and one of sixteen Orishas in the Candomblé faith, it is Yemanja’s privilege to accept the wishes, prayers, and flowers of the faithful.

All of Brazil prays to Yemanja, the Goddess of the Sea, and brings her gifts. A collective outpouring that goes deeper than the Atlantic Ocean. People of every age, race, and living standard come at year’s end, to adore her, to gift her, to celebrate her.

On this particular New Year’s, believers tossed countless roses to Yemanja, the floating flower-heads melted into points of light the moment they hit the water. The further the roses drifted from shore the brighter they glowed. They bobbed in swarms across the moonlit water, like a contour of wildflowers swaying in a wave-swept meadow.

Unseen except as a shimmer of light, Yemanja tread the dark ocean water. All during the fest she’d watched over her children with warm, intent eyes.

The Goddess swam amidst the shimmering blossoms; she watched the shore-lights, listened to the music. She leapt and splashed, filled with joy.

Prayers and wishes written on paper floated to her in flaming baskets; others wrapped around lighted candles (the masts of tiny wooden boats) kept dry above the water’s surface.

The Goddess did not read the written wishes. As the candles burned down and they tipped into the water, the written words dissolved into tiny bubbles that burst into whispers only Yemanja could hear. The Goddess listened to the prayers and wishes of her supplicants. Her laughter and tears healed as many as she possibly could.

More beautiful than anything on earth, Yemanja soared high into the night. She fell, graceful as a dolphin, into the dark water. Her naked body plunged deeper and deeper. Swift and powerful, she spiraled down. A vortex of flowers and wishes descended in her wake.

CHAPTER 5

It was the third hour of the New Year. Laura and Gabriel remained on the Copacabana sand. She thought of the years gone. The ignored phone calls, how she’d refused to see him. Sitting beside him now, Laura felt her heart soften.

Her feelings were tender, but they were strong and immediate as well. Laura wanted this moment; it felt honest and beautiful, like the good days when they were together and happy.

Before she knew it, her head rested on Gabriel’s shoulder, ‘Just like a magnet,’ as Laura liked to say.

The roses had all been carried away, out to sea. African drums could still be heard, but they were not so loud, not so insistent. The people shouting and cheering on the beach had become fewer and fewer.

It was January 1st and everything seemed new and possible. Laura and Gabriel kissed. If only this moment with Gabriel would last.

Laura was ready for Gabriel again. She missed being touched, being close to him. Maybe it was Yemanja’s presence, but everything made perfect sense. His touch had always thrilled her. Laura could only give in. She let her mind travel to a place where it was safe to love Gabriel again.

Laura had thought of Gabriel countless times since their break up. But she was afraid, too. Afraid of letting pain back in her life, afraid of involvement with the only man she’d ever loved. As the tidal current swept away the flowers, the enchantment of the New Year swept away Laura’s reluctance.

Come with me Gabriel, said Laura with some embarrassment.

Gabriel guessed their destination. Without a word, he followed her.

Having lost her slippers on the beach, Gabriel carried Laura across Atlantic Avenue. The street was quiet. Gabriel smelled the warm rain that began to fall. He tasted the mist. Carrying Laura felt like the most natural thing in the world.

At the threshold of Laura’s apartment they kissed—immediately, insistently. Gabriel carried Laura to her bedroom and set her on the silken bedclothes. His mind had been caressing Laura since he laid eyes on her on Copacabana Beach.

Gabriel employed his hands (and everything else that came to mind). He stroked her feet and licked her body. His greedy mouth ranged over each lush contour and damp dale. Gabriel wandered the labyrinth of desire, it had been years, but he remembered the way.

Alert to the most subtle signals, the lovers followed each other, lost in each other. Laura felt herself falling. Fearful of being lost, of being drowned, she called out to Yemanja.

Gabriel pushed on, (encouraged by Laura’s cries). A masterful love-maker, he touched wild and remote places, places where body and spirit fused. He crept into her most intimate parts.

Laura no longer felt her body, only her desire. In the throes of such a moment, Yemanja could do nothing. No Orisha in the heavens could save Laura.

Freedom and vulnerability became the same thing. Laura’s damp hair clung to her face and moisture inundated the bed-clothes. Her mind floated over the bedroom, imagining it filled with foam and salt water.

An ocean formed beneath and around them. Eddies of arousal carried the lovers away like an Atlantic stream. Dolphins, fish of all kinds, and underwater vines entangled Laura and Gabriel. Yemanja appeared like a mermaid, tail gently moving, creating soft ripples in sync with the lovemaking. The Goddess gathered the lovers in her arms and carried them to the ocean bottom. She bestowed her blessing. She witnessed their love.

Later, singing her siren song, the Goddess slowly ascended, taking the couple back to Laura’s room. The water surged away and the couple found themselves panting and satiated.

Weary at last, they slept. Laura woke up late the next day. Gabriel was getting dressed. They watched each other’s eyes.

Sorry, my pet but I must go. Claudio is waiting for me.

Oh, said Laura, content and lazy in her bed.

We have to work out the shoot. But I’ll come back, if you’ll let me.

Sure. Give me a call when you’re free.

Will do… And with melting eyes he said, I love you.

CHAPTER 6

With Gabriel gone, Laura’s mind continued to savor him, admiring the memory of him as though studying a photograph. She got up at last, put on a kimono and collected the newspaper outside her door. She brewed coffee and read the paper for an hour, showered and dressed.

Sitting in the living room by the large windows overlooking Copacabana Beach, she thought of her current project. It was the commission of her dreams.

Stockholders of Solimar Bahia Suites, a large hotel chain in Salvador, wanted a monumental (conspicuous) image of Yemanja in bronze (prestige) for a fountain display at their new hotel, the ‘Casa de Iemanjá.’ The massive house of Yemanja was currently under construction.

‘Salvador,’ thought Laura with a smile, birthplace of Yemanja. The Orishas’ first home in Brazil. She couldn’t believe her luck.

New Year’s Day was Laura’s favorite holiday; she called her mother, Marina, and went for a walk on the beach. She thought about Gabriel and all they had gone through in the past. She remembered how they broke-up years ago. How Gabriel had made many attempts to contact her. How he had called, sent text messages, wrote emails, and letters. And how she had ignored them all.

For Gabriel the photo shoot was an opportunity sent from heaven. All he wanted was to see her, talk to her. He loved Laura, and he thought that if he could connect with her on Copacabana Beach on New Year’s, he might still have a chance.

Maybe it was the presence of the Goddess, but Gabriel’s worries about Laura’s feelings for him vanished the minute he looked into her eyes. (The idea of bringing flowers to Yemanja was an inspired one. Laura’s heart leapt when she saw the white roses.) Yemanja or no Yemanja, what Gabriel really wanted was to have Laura in his arms again.

When he came to celebrate Yemanja on the beach and kissed Laura it felt sacred to Gabriel. And if the beach felt sacred, spending the night with Laura at her place was divine, (especially since he despaired of ever regaining her love). Mentally, Gabriel thanked Claudio. The assignment that brought him back to Rio was a real windfall.

With the upcoming photo-shoot of ‘Fashion Rio,’ all the stars aligned for Gabriel. It was a project very dear to his business partner, Claudio. He had worked like a donkey to get the account.

The only drawback was the work, hours on end. As a result Gabriel had very little time for Laura. As he worked round the clock, all he could think about was the time he was missing with her.

Still, the event was a tremendous addition to their portfolio (their web site was resplendent with pictures of beautiful models on location in the most fabulous of cities). ‘Fashion Rio’ was invaluable publicity for the Gabriel, Claudio firm.

The year ahead promised to be a successful and profitable one. Ideally, he would spend a lot more time in Rio, seeing Laura.

At the end of the week, after working most of the night, Gabriel grabbed a few hours’ sleep before arriving at Laura’s loft. Breakfast was waiting for him.

White linen covered the kitchen table, pale blue plates, a small bouquet of white flowers were arranged mid-table. Nice as the setting was, Gabriel was far more pleased to see Laura dressed in a long white gown. A gown that clung to her as comprehensively as his thoughts did.

With this kind of encouragement, you’ll never get rid of me, said Gabriel enchanted by his welcome.

Well, that’s the idea. Wait until you see what I’ve cooked-up for you.

I’m starving.

I have fresh fruit, cereal, milk, warm bread, coffee and pineapple covered with yogurt. What do you think?

Wonderful!

Well then, sit down.

Can’t we…

Stay put, said Laura, hand on his shoulder, she guided him back to his seat, let’s eat while everything is fresh and warm. I know you.

Well, that’s the idea…

Gabriel’s arms went around her waist and drew Laura on to his lap, kissing her with such passion that she soon stopped resisting. His strong light brown hands moved over the soft fabric of Laura’s gown, he ran all his fingers through her hair.

Gabriel guided Laura to the bedroom. He eased her onto the silken quilt-top and caressed every part of her he could reach. Her breasts-ends swelled and hardened at his touch. Gabriel tongue delved into her hot, inviting mouth.

He slipped his hand beneath her white slip and stroked Laura’s long-muscled legs. He slid away her underwear, Gabriel’s lips and the tip of his tongue made love to her intimate parts. Gabriel’s mouth consumed her.

He massaged Laura’s vulva with hard tongue strokes until she climaxed. He quickly undressed and possessed her slowly but powerfully. Then faster—his thrusts stronger and deeper—he exploded with relief and happiness, experiencing a pang of regret that the lovemaking had ended.

The satiated lovers were so close they breathed each other’s air. Side by side, their pulses slowed, their bodies cooled.

I miss you when you go away, said Laura.

I miss you Laura. I miss your hot body. I miss that beautiful butt of yours!

That’s funny! It was the first thing that attracted me to you, not the brown eyes or the big smile, but that beautiful butt of yours. I couldn’t wait to grab that big ‘bunda’.

I beg your pardon! Guys spend years in the gym, building their arms and chest, when all women want is a fat ass.

Women have their preferences. We love a carved, muscled butt. Not so different from what men like, is it?

Well, that’s true. When I first met you I noticed your beautiful skin. Your, ahem, full figure. So well-defined, so well-toned—and you still have it. You still have it all.

I like to feel strong and healthy. Do you think you could love me when time and gravity makes a big cow of me?

I’d still love you, but I’ll miss you, said Gabriel.

Laura laughed and pulled Gabriel’s nose.

Laura, you are as fresh and luscious as the day I laid eyes on you in the São Paulo Modern Art Museum.

I think you look great too. I love your natural tan. You are so handsome and such a beautiful person.

I love you too.

Laura asked, Are you hungry yet?

Bringing Laura close to his body, Gabriel said, I’m always hungry.

I mean fruits and cereal. I’m starving.

We’ll replenish ourselves.

After I warm up the coffee and the bread, breakfast will be good as new.

I always like everything here.

Sitting at the kitchen table, Gabriel told her about the photo shoot. How he wished he didn’t have to head back to São Paulo so soon. (He and Claudio had business commitments for the next three months.) He hoped that more business would bring him back to Rio more often.

Regardless of business, said Gabriel. I will come to see you every free weekend.

Laura understood. She was busy too modeling clay and chiseling marble for the hotel commission.

Laura and Gabriel spent the morning talking about work. She showed him clay statuettes in various poses.

Studies for the Yemanja statue? asked Gabriel.

Laura nodded her head, she loved being in the studio. It was the largest space of her loft apartment.

Let’s go for a walk, said Laura grabbing Gabriel's hands. They went down the elevator and crossed the street to the beach.

They spent the day in the city, returning to Atlantic Avenue for the sunset at Copacabana Beach. Back in Laura’s apartment they talked, kissed and made love several times. Everything was deliriously enchanting; it was heavenly. Just before falling asleep, Laura thanked Yemanja for returning Gabriel to her on New Year’s Eve.

Any skepticism Laura had about Gabriel had disappeared with their first kiss. And Yemanja had been watching from the ocean, complicit in their love—love blessed by the cheers of her festival. It would take a great deal to undo the bond of two souls brought together by the will of Yemanja.

CHAPTER 7

Gabriel flew back to São Paulo on Sunday evening, leaving Laura with her heart in her hands. She missed him already. At the Congonhas Airport in central São Paulo he texted her: Miss you!

In bed that night, everything reminded her of Gabriel, Laura felt overwhelmed by tenderness.

Laura dreamed