But before the autopsy could begin, an icy wind repeatedly invaded the room, causing the window to burst open with a crash.
The papers on the table flew, the instruments ticked. Camilo shuddered. His body reacted with a repeated chill. He immediately turned towards the body on the stretcher and with a lump in his throat asked:
“Do you really think we should do this, doctor?”
—To touch a nun, someone sacred? —Fóseca didn’t respond immediately, only letting out a long sigh. His gaze was fixed on the nun’s body and he too felt the same chill.
Something had changed in the atmosphere. Thus, he spoke firmly. This is our job, Camilo.
Whoever it is, we need to find answers. We need to know the cause of death. He paused and finished.
Sometimes life presents things that seem wrong, but that are necessary.
The young doctor, still hesitant, nodded. They both breathed deeply. The veteran then took the initiative. Let’s talk. Where did you say you saw something?
“On the back,” Camilo replied. “Through the opening of the habit. There’s something there. It seems so.” Foseca approached the stretcher and examined it carefully. “Let me see.” As he drew closer, he leaned over the body.
In effect, the black habit had a small tear and through it one could see a piece of skin and something strange about it.
