Luis spent the rest of the morning and much of the afternoon in the house's library.
The room was quiet, with tall shelves filled with books that had been accumulated over generations. Sunlight entered through the high windows, illuminating particles of dust slowly floating in the air.
Teresa stayed with him.
At first, she simply watched as he flipped through books and documents, but soon she ended up picking up a few volumes as well. At one point during the day, she briefly left and returned carrying a small tray with bread, fruit, and some cold meat.
"I thought you might forget to eat," she said.
Luis smiled.
"Perhaps I would have."
They had lunch right there, sitting at the large table in the library.
After that, Luis continued reading.
History.
Political records.
Books about commerce and economics.
The more he read, the more a conclusion began to form in his mind.
The history he knew… did not seem different.
The important events were still exactly where they should be. Governments, wars, treaties, political changes — everything seemed to follow the same path he remembered from his other life.
Luis slowly closed one of the books.
So the changes are small…
Or perhaps only localized.
He began organizing his thoughts.
His father.
His grandmother.
Himself.
These three points were clearly different from what he remembered.
And inevitably, this had also influenced his mother's family.
His grandfather.
Eduardo Vasconcelos de Albuquerque.
Luis rested his elbow on the table and placed his hand on his chin.
Something didn't make sense.
His grandfather was, according to what Augusto had described, an extremely influential man. A powerful banker who had grown rich quickly and created a solid financial institution.
And yet…
Luis could not remember absolutely anything about that name in his previous life.
Not the man.
Not the bank.
Not any historical reference.
He frowned slightly.
It was strange.
A large bank in the capital of the country would hardly disappear completely from history without leaving any mention.
Unless…
Luis narrowed his eyes.
Unless he had never been that large in the other timeline.
Perhaps the bank had never even existed.
Or perhaps it had remained small, without much relevance.
If that were the case…
Then his own existence might have altered more things than he had imagined.
He sighed.
Those questions would probably take time to answer.
Luis was immersed in those thoughts when he heard Teresa sigh dramatically beside him.
"It's very hot."
Luis lifted his eyes from the book.
Teresa was fanning her face with one hand.
"It has always been hot in Rio…" she said.
Luis smiled.
She wasn't wrong.
Rio de Janeiro had always had intense heat for its inhabitants. It was no coincidence that the city of Petrópolis had been built as a summer refuge for the imperial family and for part of the court's elite.
Even so, Luis, with the memories of another life, had a slightly different perspective.
Even sweating lightly, he knew that this was still tolerable.
In the twenty-first century, summer in Rio could easily go weeks without the temperature dropping below forty degrees.
Compared to that, the heat of that day seemed almost gentle.
Teresa kept complaining.
"I swear I'm going to melt in here."
Luis laughed.
"Dramatic."
She made a face.
"Don't you feel hot?"
"I do."
He closed the book.
"But I think I've already gotten used to it."
Teresa crossed her arms, still fanning her face.
Then she looked at him with a small smile.
"Can we go outside?"
Luis didn't even need to think.
"Of course."
In fact, if she hadn't suggested it, he probably would have done it in a few minutes.
Now that he had stopped reading, he finally began to notice other things.
Like the comfortable silence of the library.
Like the soft light coming through the windows.
And… how Teresa seemed different in the afternoon light.
Some strands of her hair were lightly stuck to her forehead because of the heat. Her face was flushed, and she seemed completely at ease beside him, without any concern about their closeness.
Luis looked away for a moment.
He had thirty-five years of life experience.
But he still had the body of an eighteen-year-old.
And that body had its own natural reactions.
He cleared his throat discreetly.
"Let's go before you really melt."
Teresa laughed.
The two left the library and stepped outside the house.
Outside, the air felt lighter.
A gentle breeze passed through the estate's garden.
There were large trees providing shade, along with stone benches and small paths between flowers and shrubs.
They sat under one of the trees.
Some books came with them.
But reading soon mixed with other things.
Conversations.
Small jokes.
Stories.
Teresa told funny episodes about some of the farm workers.
Luis replied with jokes or comments.
At certain moments, they even returned to the books.
But soon they began talking again.
The rest of the afternoon passed like that.
Calm.
Light.
And for the first time since he had awakened in that new life, Luis felt something close to peace.