“With pleasure, Your Honor.” Cardoso told everything—every detail. The approach, the insults, the broken headlight, the slap.
“And you remained calm,” she concluded. “Even after the slap. Even trying to protect me.” “Yes, Your Honor.” “Thank you, officer.”
Then she called Matos.
“Sergeant, do you recall what happened?”
“Your Honor, we didn’t know—” “Didn’t know what?” she interrupted. “That I was a judge—and that matters?”
Silence.
“I will initiate formal proceedings against you. Wait until the end of the session.”
The session ended. The room emptied. Only the four of them remained.
“Now we’re going to talk.” Jordana stepped down from the bench. “But first, I’m going to do something that should have been done a long time ago.” She picked up the phone and called. “Internal Affairs—I need you here. Urgently.”
The administrative tribunal room was completely full. It was the disciplinary hearing of Matos and Ferreira. Jordana was there—not as judge, but as victim and witness—seated in the front row. Across from her, the two former officers had been suspended the day after the complaint. No badges. No weapons. No salaries.
The disciplinary board had three members. At the center, Chairman Colonel Almeida—a serious man in his sixties.
“Let’s begin,” he said. “This is an administrative proceeding against Sergeant Carlos Eduardo Matos and Corporal Augusto Ferreira for multiple accusations of abuse of authority, assault, and misconduct.”
Jordana had already given her testimony. Cardoso as well. Now came other witnesses.
“First witness,” announced the colonel, “Mr. Lucas Enrique Silva.”
A young Black man, around 23, approached. Thin, nervous, hands slightly trembling.
He swore to tell the truth.
