For a split-second, Phoebe is satisfied, full, and happy. Just then a wave of disgust and fear makes her feel as sorry as a favela rat. This humid terror grows worse at noon when she hears her father’s booming call, "Where’s my lemon meringue pie?!" Soon afterward, he begins the search for his pie, and for the empty culprit who ate it.
Phoebe knows that her father will be furious with her if he finds out what she did. She imagines his rage, and hides in her room behind the bed. She sends magic thoughts to him, asking him not to use the belt if he finds out. It leaves bruises. When he uses the belt on her brother, it makes her so angry that she bunches up her fists until her knuckles turn white. Her anger surges like a tsunami tide.
Then she hears laughter from outside. The laughter gives rise to drum beats with a rhythm for dancing. The Festa do São João offers a distraction, while the Forró drummers gather below her balcony window. Music changes her mood, reducing her anger to tears of regret and fear.
Downstairs in the kitchen, the interrogation begins…
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