Foremost by Night (2023)

[bunniefuu]

FOREMOST BY NIGHThis is going to be a horror story.

A story of m*rder, detection, and horror.

But it won't appear to be, for the simple

reason that I am the teller.

Told by me, it won't seem like that.

Although, in fact,

it is the story of a terrible crime.

Amuleto , Roberto Bolao.

It could have been like this.

First, you have to cross the river.

Then, follow the train tracks

for three kilometers

until you reach the crossroad.

One of the paths takes you

into the valley.

The other takes you to the mountains.

Take the one on the left.

There's a cherry tree at the crossroads.

There are wild horses in the field.

There are ruins of an old church.

There's an abandoned mine.

At the mine,

take the dirt path on the right,

the one that goes into the woods,

the one that takes you

to the mountain pass on the old road.

There it is.

The city is on the other side.

First, you have to cross the river.

Then, follow the train tracks

for three kilometers

until you reach the crossroad.

One of the paths takes you

into the valley.

The other takes you into the mountains.

Take the one on the left.

There's a cherry tree at the crossroads.

There are wild horses in the field.

There are some ruins of an old church.

There's an abandoned mine.

At the mine, there's another crossroads.

Take the dirt path on the right,

the one that goes into the woods

and takes you to the lake,

the one that takes you

to the mountain pass on the old road.

There it is.

The city is on the other side.

1. LETTER FROM VERA TO EGOZ

This is a story of violence.

Of anger and violence.

Someone loses someone.

Someone looks for someone

for the rest of their life.

This is my story.

It could have gone differently.

But this is how it went.

I was young and things weren't easy.

You were born.

I couldn't take care of you.

I did it so you'd have a better life.

Years later, I looked for you.

I had finally found a bit of calm.

So I started asking around about you.

I just wanted to know if you were okay.

I wanted to know

if everything worked out.

That's where it all began.

STENOTYPY

Death. Horn. Dream.

Intruder. Invasion. Invisible.

Handkerchief. Lure. Hook.

Under that huge tree,

there's a treasure.

High hill.

In the sad nights.

She is always so precise.

First, I was given a document from

a doctor saying you died during labor.

"What's this?" I asked.

I told them I remembered your birth.

The first time you cried.

The midwife saying everything was okay.

They told me to come back another day.

I did and no one was available to see me.

They told me they'd call me.

They never called.

I received an official letter saying

my file didn't exist.

"No record," they said.

"There's nothing" they said.

I called and cried on the phone.

"It has to be there somewhere."

"It couldn't disappear like that."

I talked to everyone. I went back.

I didn't know what to do.

I got another official letter.

"No record."

I talked with the notary

that signed the documents.

He told me to forget it.

To forget you.

I learned quickly.

Thanks to my job in the courtroom,

I learned quickly.

For every buyer,

there's always a seller.

I turned to crime. I went into

the night, into the underground.

Go after them from the inside.

That has been my revenge.

This case will proceed to a hearing

in order to resolve the procedure

in this Criminal Division

number 43 of Madrid,

under case file number 9-2022,

having originated in expedited proceedings

number 1-2018,

filed by Central Court number three

for acts described

by the Office of the Prosecutor General,

which it deems to be acts

constituting the following crimes.

Crime A:

criminal organization to commit...

m*therf*ckers.

m*therf*ckers.

m*therf*ckers.

ASSOCIATIONS ESTIMATE THAT 300,000

BABIES WERE STOLEN IN SPAIN

BETWEEN 1940 AND 1990

WHERE ARE THE FILES?

DOCTOR FOUND GUILTY

OF CHILD TRAFFICKING IS ACQUITTED

MOST CRIMES HAVE EXPIRED

YET ANOTHER CASE CLOSED

WITH NO CHARGES

THE LONG BATTLE AGAINST SILENCE

AND OBLIVION

PLOT OF FAKE CERTIFICATES

Those who were supposed

to tell me the truth, lied to me.

They belittled me.

They hurt me.

They shamed me.

They humiliated me.

They erased me.

Why did they leave me so alone?

Why didn't anyone think of us?

Why didn't anyone ever ask us anything?

Over the years, I've met many other

women like me and we're all alike.

Forgotten.

Losers.

Invisible.

This is my fight.

I'm not speaking in anyone else's name.

I don't represent anyone.

I'm not an example of anything.

This is the only thing

they couldn't take from me.

My story and how I tell it.

What?

Breathe easy, Vera.

We just need to finish prepping

and will start soon.

It will take fifteen minutes.

Don't move and try to stay calm.

I'll be here with you.

Don't think about anything,

try to keep your mind blank.

I wanted to k*ll them.

I pictured myself k*lling them many times.

I've also pictured my own death

many times.

Because of the sadness,

despair, exhaustion, hate.

I pictured all the different ways

I could k*ll them.

I followed them. I wrote out addresses.

I planned attacks.

I pictured every possible revenge.

I'd use a dagger.

A dagger hidden in an umbrella.

A really sharp dagger.

I'd wait on a quiet street.

On a rainy day.

On a winter evening.

First, I'd follow him from a distance.

Then, I'd get closer and closer.

Closer and closer.

I'd stab him very slowly.

I'd look him in the eye.

I'd spit on the ground.

What about this?

How much time do I have left?

For every buyer,

there's always a seller.

It all starts with a phone call.

You talk about money.

You talk about a contact.

You talk about a meeting point.

Sometimes you need to get lucky.

Sometimes you need more money.

Sometimes you need someone

to let their guard down.

I learned quickly.

If someone hurts you, you respond.

When you go against power, use

their same weapons, tools and methods.

A direct and dirty counterattack.

Blackmail.

I've been looking for you my whole life.

Dodging fake clues.

Paying to find out more.

Losing.

I've spent years watching them,

following them,

learning their ways, their language,

their lives, their misfortunes.

Taking notes on their every step,

waiting for them to make a mistake.

They've finally made that mistake.

I have some photos

that can destroy your life.

You have something

I've been looking for my entire life.

But now I'm the one in charge.

I need my full medical record and file,

the signatures, the names, the dates.

Everything you've always said

never exists.

You have until midnight.

They made us burn it all.

Official documents with seals,

signatures, names, everything.

It's like those documents never existed.

We usually say they were lost or moved.

That they're at central services

and someone's looking in the boxes.

But time goes by.

And nothing is ever found

because we're told not to look.

And you want to help,

but you don't know how.

Sometimes someone higher up calls

someone who calls someone

who calls someone

and we receive a notification.

A location in the archives.

A catalog number.

An old man came here last year.

I gave him a letter and a picture.

It was the first picture he ever saw

of his son.

These stories make you feel fake joy.

But joy all the same.

Thanks to the picture,

he found out he looks like his son.

Those stories allow you to continue.

When I go down to the archive, I cry.

There will come a time

when there's no one left to ask.

And it'll all be gone.

There are two volumes here.

Five were taken somewhere else.

I don't know where.

The rest were burned.

One day,

they told us just to take them out

at sunset

and they were burned that night.

Why doesn't anyone ever talk

about the fire?

All these years

I've been looking for you,

crouched down, raging,

like a wounded animal about to jump.

I finally have your name,

your address, your street.

Now I know they lied to us.

That you're not dead.

That I'm not crazy.

And I'm writing you this letter

so you know how I found you.

I had to lose before I could win.

Egoz, dear Egoz.

This is the first time

I'm saying your name.

This letter is for you.

To tell you I never forgot you.

To tell you I love you.

To tell you I finally found you.

f*ck.

-Broken?

-Yes.

...three, four, five.

And now, staccatos.

One and...

Low.

High.

Low.

Quiet.

Okay, open your eyes.

Hold it and look up.

Hold it and lower.

Slowly.

And put your muscles back in place.

And relax.

One and two and...

2. FROM EGOZ.

FROM CORA.

Egoz, come on.

Don't forget to pay for the quarter again.

Now you know my story, Egoz.

I know you're okay.

I know you live in San Sebastin.

I know you have your own life.

This is my address.

I'm going back to Portugal,

to the shores of the Douro River,

to my great aunt's house,

where I spent my childhood summers.

I know you'll have a lot of questions

and you'll need time to process.

If you need me, come.

I'll always be here for you.

Yours always.

-Good morning, Izaro.

-Good morning.

Come in. Be careful,

I just broke a glass.

Okay.

Start where we left off the other day.

Start with scales.

We'll move on to the score after.

Okay.

I want to hear you play stronger.

More rhythm and stronger. Okay?

It could have been like this.

Who are you?

How did you find me?

How old are you?

What's your full name?

How tall are you?

What's your shoe size?

Do you have siblings?

Where did you go to school?

What was your first job?

Are you married?

Who did you marry?

Did you move out at a young age?

At what age

did you get pregnant with me?

What did they tell you?

Were you afraid?

Did you stop working?

Did you hide?

Did you hide it?

Who was he?

What was he like?

Did you have more children?

Where do you work?

Where do you live?

Do you live alone?

Are you happy?

Why haven't I heard from you until now?

Where did you spend your summers?

What type of music do you listen to?

Do you go to the movies?

What do you do on the weekends?

Are you afraid?

Did you know I was told you were dead?

Why did they tell me you were dead?

Are you dead?

This is a story of violence.

"Egoz," I said.

"His name is Egoz."

That's what I said when they asked

what we wanted to name you.

They told me you were born

early in the morning a few days before.

They told me you didn't have a name yet.

They told me

your mother died during labor.

We've talked a lot about the past.

About the mother

and the family we've never met.

Now I know they tricked me.

I was tricked too.

We were all tricked, Egoz.

And I'm sorry. I'm so sorry.

But you have to believe me, please.

I've never talked to you like this

before, but I feel like I can now.

I want to tell you how lonely I felt

at the beginning.

How afraid I was

of not knowing how to be your mom.

Of not deserving it.

How accompanied I've felt

by your side, Egoz.

How afraid I am of losing you now.

I also got a letter from Vera

and I have her address

on the shores of the Douro River.

I know you're on the way to her house

to meet her.

I'm following you.

I need to be with you, Egoz.

I've always loved you a lot.

And I know how you feel right now.

Answer me, please.

Wait for me, please.

Egoz, I never lied to you.

They told us everything was in order.

They told us the judge had approved

the process and the papers.

We signed fearlessly.

And with excitement.

We thought we were doing the right thing.

When I asked, they said she had died.

"She died in labor," they said.

That's what I've always told you, Egoz.

They told me they had to remove my womb.

They told me I couldn't have children.

I remember how my body smell changed.

I didn't recognize my own smell.

I hated that new smell.

I also remember that empty feeling.

I was empty.

Later on, they told us about a hospital

and the possibility of adoption.

They told us we had to wait

a few months.

They told us everything was okay.

They told us

we were finally going to build a family.

My doctor told me that,

while we waited,

I should put a pillow on my belly

when I went outside.

He asked me to fake my pregnancy.

I threw up that night.

I threw up the next night.

I threw up the next night.

I didn't wear a pillow around.

We just waited.

One summer day,

they called us and said it was urgent.

"Come this afternoon," they said.

"It's a boy."

We went to a clinic full of other women

and waited.

When it was our turn,

they said my name wrong.

"Nora! Nora!" And no one responded.

"Nora," they said again.

And I started crying.

I couldn't stop crying.

"My name is Cora," I said.

And so they said, "Yes, come in."

But I couldn't stop crying.

Years later, I remember explaining

to you that you had two families.

A mother you'd never met

and another mother, me.

That this is something

that happens sometimes.

That's why I loved you twice as much.

That's why you

were always going to be special.

Good evening.

Could you please tell me

how to get to the train station?

Go straight ahead until you get

to that street and then go right.

To the right, okay. Thank you.

You're welcome.

Do you know what hurt me?

That people thought I wasn't a real mom.

And I tried to keep you away

from all that, but I could feel it.

I could feel

that people thought I wasn't a real mom.

And I didn't care.

But it's exhausting.

It's exhausting to be judged.

And I was afraid they would hurt you.

I did my best, Egoz.

I taught you everything I know.

And I love you so much.

I love you so much.

"First, we had to cross a river."

"Then a crevice in the mountain."

"Then a cave inside a cave,

where no light had ever reached before."

"Then the white-stone cavern,

to the shores of the inner lake."

"Then came the seven waterfalls

and their secret,

one after the other,

one after the other,

one after the other..."

"Yes, of course,

the universe is black, foremost by night."

Hi.

Hi.

-Are you from around here?

-No.

I'm from far away.

I'm traveling to Porto. How about you?

Yeah, me too.

I'm from far away

and I am traveling to Porto, yes.

-Your Portuguese is great.

-Muito obrigada.

-You have a southern accent, right?

-Yeah, exactly.

Yes, I have a bit

of a southern Portuguese accent. Yes.

You always asked me to read to you

a little longer.

"A little longer," you'd say.

Sometimes I thought you'd fallen asleep

and I'd move as carefully as I could

to not wake you.

And you'd soon open your eyes and say,

"A little longer."

"A little longer."

If I didn't read to you,

you wouldn't fall asleep.

You'd tell me you were scared

and I'd read to you so you wouldn't be.

I remember you once asked me,

"What happens after?"

"What happens after what?" I asked.

"After the end of the book, what happens

to the characters?" you asked.

"What a wonderful journey."

"Entering through a volcano,

we had come out another

located more than 1,200 leagues

from that arid land."

"The fortunes of the expedition

had transported us

to the center of the earth."

"Finally, the region of lava and snows,

the deep darkness,

gave way to a new landscape

of infinite greenery."

"We had left the fog

to reappear under the blue sky

of a new world."

Are you okay?

I don't know.

What do you think she's like?

A bit like you.

3. THREE

The first time we met, we were silent.

Then we cried.

Did you ever feel

like I was alive somewhere?

Did you feel something

when I thought of you?

Could you hear everything

I said to you at night?

Yes.

Is anyone there?

Is anyone there?

Those are rushes, reeds...

And those, over there,

the tallest and darkest ones...

-What are they?

-No clue.

Eucalyptus trees.

And those, over there.

Look.

See the ones with the redder leaves?

That's from the cold.

And those are elms.

Do you smoke?

No.

Well, no.

And what do you like?

What do you really like, I mean.

The piano.

I know that. And what else?

Movies.

Movies?

Movies, yes.

Watching movies.

Do you know that sometimes

I hoped to see you?

On the screen.

In movies, I always watch the people

in the back, in the background.

The people who happen to walk

in front of the camera

in scenes that take place in the street,

in cities with lots of people.

That's where I looked.

In case I saw you.

I often hoped to recognize a gesture.

Anything.

A look. A look at the camera.

Someone who looked like me.

Someone who looked like you.

That's beautiful what you just said.

I've been dead many times.

They broke me in half.

I've been after them my whole life.

After the people who lied to us.

After the people who tricked us.

After the people who humiliated us.

Running.

I was always in two places at once.

I never had time to rest.

All these years,

I've dreamed of doing two things.

Finding you.

Finding you, Egoz.

And getting revenge one last time.

There's only one thing

that can hurt them.

They keep a lot of money

in a ground-floor room

at the Art and History Museum of Porto,

the old city prison.

They got rich stealing from us.

That money doesn't exist.

No one outside their circle

knows it's there.

I want to steal something

that doesn't exist from them.

I know the place.

I know the time. I know the date.

They're changing exhibitions.

Now's the time.

Get in. Take it all. Disappear.

That's my last act of revenge.

I'm not asking you for anything.

I just need to finish what I started

so many years ago.

There's something else.

In that same safe, there are more books.

Books like the ones

that had your names in it.

There are more books with names,

addresses, and dates of birth.

Papers they should've burned,

but for some reason didn't.

They've always felt so safe

that they didn't do it.

But now I know they're there.

That was great.

No way. It's really out of tune.

You're a great player.

You could continue your studies

if you wanted.

Yeah, but you know

that going to lessons isn't something I...

It doesn't have to be the conservatory.

You could get a tutor.

Yes, that could work.

What would you like to do?

I'd like to get away, you know.

Go to Argentina or Montevideo.

Look for a job in a workshop there.

I don't know. Start something new.

You know Ceci works there.

Yes. Jos has a friend who works

on the pianos at the Mar de Plata hotel.

-He said I could call him.

-Perfect. We can help you with that.

Okay.

-Should we tune it?

-Yes.

-It's the A-flat of this octave.

What do you think about what Vera told us?

I understand her.

And I'd do the same thing.

What's this scar from?

That one? It's really old.

I got it in Madrid on a motorcycle.

I was sitting on the back.

We ran a red light

and I went flying down Gran Va.

I didn't feel it at first

because what really hurt from the fall

was my knee.

But then I felt something on my back,

something warm.

It was a drop of blood.

You can barely see it.

Is it serious?

Look, Cora.

Did you tell Egoz?

No.

No.

What about the one on your forehead?

That's from running into a door

at a wedding.

I didn't see the glass door.

I walked through it

and knocked myself out.

And I have scars from my operation.

Here.

You can barely see them.

Close your eyes.

What about Egoz?

You can ask him tomorrow.

He's got a few funny stories.

You'll like them.

He's never stood still.

He's banged himself up a ton of times.

He spent his childhood

in the nurse's office.

You can open your eyes now.

Has Egoz always called you Cora?

Yes.

Since he was little.

I think he's afraid

to call me anything else.

Do you want to answer the question

I asked you earlier?

No, not now.

I need more time.

Tomorrow.

What's the word?

Ste-no-gra-pher.

Stenographer.

We go in with our machines.

We write everything down.

We listen to everything.

No one sees us, but we're there.

My professor used to say

it's kind of like playing the piano.

It goes in your ears and out your hands.

You look like someone else.

So do you.

Sometimes, when I fall asleep,

I realize that

I can't stop moving my fingers.

Does that happen to you with the piano?

Yes. I call it the ghost piano.

Thank you.

Do you smoke?

No. Do you?

No... Well, no.

Why do you think I'm here, Vera?

You're his mother.

Sure...

I thought about you often.

I often wondered

what this was all like for you.

I wanted to thank you.

For looking for us.

I don't know. For everything. For...

For looking for Egoz. For...

for the letters.

How you wrote to us.

How you wrote to Egoz.

How you told him everything.

I'm thankful that we're here, now.

But I...

This whole thing with the money

and the safe scares me.

I understand you. Of course I do.

I understand...

your need for revenge

and your way of doing things.

But the truth is, I...

don't know what to do

about what happened to us.

All of this hurts me too.

You get it, right?

I also feel tricked and...

and lost...

and empty...

and guilty.

I know now that this is end of something.

Are you okay?

Will you be able to do it?

I don't know what's going to happen, Vera.

I'm afraid to think about it.

I'm afraid to picture Egoz moving out.

I don't know what will be of me

after everything that's happened.

But I'll go with you two.

I need to do this for Egoz.

And for you.

For us.

I need us to take those books

you told us about.

And I'll be the one to go in.

One,

two,

three,

four,

now.

One,

two,

three,

four,

now.

One,

two,

three,

four,

now.

One,

two,

three,

four,

now.

It's simple.

We have a copy of the key.

There aren't any security cameras.

No one will be expecting us.

We have to memorize the floor plan.

The steps we need to take

to move through the different rooms.

Every turn.

Every move we have to make

to get to the room and safe.

There might be a police patrol

on the street. I'll take care of it.

We'll synchronize our watches.

One, two, three, four, now.

Now.

Now.

Now.

Now.

One, two, three, four, now.

In. Out. The end.

And we runaway.

And we don't look back.

And we disappear forever.

Like ghosts.

One, two, three, four, now.

One, two, three, four,

now.

One, two, three, four, now.

One, two, three, four, now.

One, two, three, four, now.

One, two, three, four, now.

One, two, three, four, now.

I love you so much.

One, two, three, four, now.

One, two, three, four, now.

And I remember you were silent

for almost a minute when you were born.

It was dawn.

I remember that

your heart was beating very fast.

And your skin was very thin.

And I could see all your blue veins,

which were like small rivers.

And your smell.

You didn't cry and that moved me.

Until, suddenly,

you closed your eyes and I closed mine.

And then you cried with all your might.

Blonde woman.

I repeat, blonde woman. Middle-aged.

No pulse. Cardio-respiratory arrest.

Unresponsive to resuscitation.

4. POSTDATA

Dear Egoz, I'm sending this letter

to your address in Madrid.

I loved the picture of you

at the waterfall and your travel stories

and hearing that you might go back

to Buenos Aires this summer.

Here, my classes are going well.

I'm happy.

I got a warm welcome

at the conservatory.

What do you think about my French?

I have a bit of a southern accent, right?

I'm doing my best to get better. Merci.

Dear Mom.

Dear Mom.

I think about you all the time, Egoz.

And I think of Vera often.

And our story. And how we wrote it down

just in case someone ever asks about us.

About how we disappeared.

And how our lives went on.

No one sees us,

but we're there.

Like ghosts.

Like ghosts keeping each other company.

Foremost by night.

And then?

And what happens after the end?

And what happens to them after the end?

Dear Egoz.

Don't forget me.

Don't ever forget us.

Someday we will be again.

I love you.

I love you a lot. So much.