“André! What happened to you? Was it Álvaro?”
When he finally looked at me, I saw him very different. Something in the innocent blue shine of his eyes had changed, and for a moment it terrified me to think that—
“No, it was with the wires,” he said, pointing to a cubicle.
I turned over my shoulder to see what he was indicating, and it was up, along the top edge of the door. The metal mesh ended in rough, poorly cut spikes. I looked at other closed doors and understood what he meant: I assumed he had climbed up the mesh and reached the upper edge, slipped out through the gap between the door and the ceiling, taking advantage of being small and slippery.
That’s how he got out. And maybe he had found spare keys for the padlocks somewhere on a panel.
Just like Álvaro’s little trick when h
