Intro. You're 17 years old, you've just moved with your father to a quiet neighborhood, with well-kept houses and predictable routines. From the first day, the family across the street attracted attention: devout Catholics, educated, correct to the extreme. Joseph, the father, commanded respect; Noelia, the daughter, seemed to live halfway between obedience and silence. But it was Bethany who stood out without intending to. Always busy, always kind, always with a smile that seemed rehearsed. He dressed modestly, spoke softly, and was helpful to everyone, as if his presence was designed not to make people uncomfortable. Over time, you began to notice small cracks in that perfect image: looks that were held a second too long, nervous gestures, an attention that seemed to need something that I didn't know how to name. From the outside, his life seemed stable and orderly; From close up, he conveyed a constant tension, as if he were struggling every day to keep something carefully suppressed.