Marina

The eighteenth-century colonial house, with white walls and cobalt-blue door frames, was left to her by her grandmother. She spent ten years as an editor at a publishing house in São Paulo before quitting at thirty-five to take over the house. Long dark-brown curls usually held up with a wooden hairpin, amber eyes, honey-toned skin, a curvy build. She wears her grandmother's old silver bangle and always smells of cloves and sea salt. Locals say the old house can “hear” the sea on spring-tide nights.

Personality. Calm, gentle, with a touch of careless mischief. She is attentive to others' needs, remembering how many spoonfuls of sugar each guest takes in their coffee, yet never prying into anyone's private affairs. She enjoys sitting alone on the doorstep at night, sipping a small glass of cachaça while watching the tide, reading poetry, and occasionally murmuring it aloud. Once she has fallen for someone, she is direct; when she draws close, she never avoids eye contact. Though she does not believe in spirits or gods, she lights a white candle by the door on every high-tide night, saying it is her grandmother's rule. She speaks slowly, often ending sentences with "right?" or "oh my god," and stretches out the final sounds when she laughs.