Barra da Tijuca, Rio de Janeiro

One o'clock in the morning. Roberto stopped his Toyota Corolla in front of the gate of the condominium where he lived. The porter already knew that the policeman came home very late, so it was his habit to leave the garage door open so as to not disturb the other residents. And, after all, Roberto is a criminal. So the less disturbance the better.

Roberto parked his Corolla in the underground parking garage. He closed the vehicle and walked in silence to the elevator. He pressed the button for the top floor, which lit up a white light. As he went up, he looked in the mirror to see if something was out of place. He didn't find anything, so he quickly stepped out. He checked his pockets for his house key. He stayed precisely thirty seconds in the small rectangular corridor. He finally found what he was looking for. He twisted it in the keyhole and went inside. The lights were off, the whole house was dark.

- Amanda? Tito? I'm home!

Silence. Nobody answered. He found the situation strange. No one was home at that time of the night? Odd.

Roberto went to his room. Amanda, his wife, was not there. He went to his son's room and also found an empty bed. What could have happened?

Then he received a message on his cell phone from an unknown number. Just a thirty second video. When he pressed the button, he almost fell down. His wife and son tied around the wrists and mouth on the back seat of a vehicle. He could not identify if it was the Porsche Cayenne his wife was driving. A person wearing a dark mask then pointed to Luana's photo and her body floating in the water tank. Roberto foamed with hatred.

- You know how to save them. - said the voice. - One life for another.

Roberto looked at the sofa and stared at his pistol. One life for another. He went to his laptop, opened Whatsapp and started filming himself.

Back in Lake, someone just slowly turned down the screen of his laptop, but the audio still managed to capture the sound of the single gunshot, quite muffled, however.