(Renata Pellegrini)I'm so hungry and my legs are so sore that I have the feeling I misheard, is this serious? Is the richest man in the world really offering me a ride?"N-no, but could you tell me where the cab stand is?"Is the money paid to me enough to pay for the cab? I know things here are more on account than in Brazil, a bus would be better, but just to disguise, I ask the cab rank and there, with people I will probably never see again in life, I ask where the bus stop is."You're not taking the cab," he says, looking me in the eyes."Yes, I will" I lie, "I just don't know where the point is.""Sta mentendo per me, ragazza?", 'Are you lying to me, girl?', he says in Italian, his tone telling me that this question is more like a warning, like: keep lying and you'll see.My cheeks burn, how can he be so convinced I'm lying? Am I so transparent like this? I could never hide anything from my dad, he always said I was a terrible liar, but I thought it was only because he knew me b
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