The image made her uncomfortable. She lowered her gaze, as if trying to push the thought away and down toward the ground.

"Alder, don’t you think this solution—having a child, you know, to… end my problems—isn’t it a bit… you know…?"

"Too drastic?"

"Yeah, too drastic. That’s the word."

The man let out a short sigh, as if he, too, were exhausted from beating around the bush.

"It’s possible. Especially in your current state. But I can’t think of anything else when everything else has failed."

"That would fail too."

"How do you know, if you haven’t tried it?" he said, sounding a bit irritated. "Did you know that pregnancy causes physical changes in a woman’s brain?"

"Physical changes? Like…"

"Yes, physical. Psychological ones too, of course. It’s scientifically proven. Neurons reorganize under the influence of hormones in key areas related to social relationships and the perception of the self."

Emma looked at him, bewildered.

"I don’t understand."

"They’re changes that affect empathy and reinforce caregiving and emotional bonding. All geared toward the unborn baby, naturally. But in any case, it would certainly change the way you see the world."

Emma looked at him. He had just given her a lesson on anatomy and brain structure more befitting a neurologist than a ragged night-time vagrant.

"And how do you know that?"

Alder fell silent for a moment before saying:

"Well… I… I’ve read a lot," he admitted. "Not so much lately, but I used to. And, unfortunately for me, I have a good memory."

"Unfortunately for you?"

"Yes," he sighed. "I wish I didn’t remember certain things from my past so… vividly."

The girl looked down, reflecting on what she had heard. Her mind was a whirlwind of ideas, coupled with a deep fear that tightened her chest. The night around her seemed to have grown heavier; the streetlights cast a yellowish glow that created an almost eerie atmosphere.

After a while, she finally said:

"I don’t know." Like… it all seems so shocking to me... Like... plus, do you think any psychologist would advise a patient to do something like that to get over depression? I mean... a 16-year-old patient?

"Probably not. But the thing is, psychology is a modern invention designed to deal with modern problems."

"What do you mean? Did bullying not exist before?"

"It has always existed. Humans, like primates, are gregarious… and prone to forming cliques. The difference is that, back then, women had other tools to combat it."

"What kind of tools? Like…"

"Well, exactly—at your age…" He looked her up and down, overcoming his revulsion. "Any girl back then would have already been pregnant several times over. They started having children as soon as they got their periods, and whenever there were problems, they always found refuge in their families."

"In their families…"

"Of course—in their sons and daughters. That was what mattered most to them. If the kids had food and were healthy, any other problem didn't really matter. And believe me, there were problems—serious ones, too."

"I get what you mean. But we aren't living in prehistoric times anymore, Alder. Like… or the Middle Ages, for that matter."

"That’s the problem. Women today have suppressed their natural instincts—the ones that made them strong and ready to face life’s hardships, like bullying. Just look at how many teenage girls suffer from insecurity, anxiety, or depression now. How many is it, compared to the old days?"

"Yeah, a lot. The clinic was packed with girls my age. And older ones, too."

"And why do you think that is?"

Emma didn’t answer right away, and Alder continued:

"Emma, ​​a woman is made to love and be loved. And she needs love just as much as she needs food. She isn't like a man—men are different. Men are tougher, less sensitive... But a woman isn't. Without love, a woman withers, like a flower without water..."

"Love, you say? What kind of love? Like... a man's love?"

"No. Sadly—with rare exceptions—that kind of love eventually ends or fades away. It’s rarely enough. I was referring to the love between mother and child. The love a mother gives and receives from her children. It is an eternal, unconditional love that fully satisfies the need to love that every woman possesses."

"That every woman..."

"Emma," he sighed, "you’ve been misled if you were told that you are—or should be—like men in that regard. It’s impossible."

"Why not? That tendency exists because, in the past, we were raised to... well... it’s something... cultural."

"No, it isn't," he interrupted. "That’s the story they tell, but it’s false. On the contrary, it’s genetic—biological—written right into our genes. It’s impossible to hide or change it."

"I see," she noted. "So, according to you, all the problems women face would be solved if they just got pregnant. Is that it?"

The vagrant shrugged.

"I don't know. I suppose it depends on the individual case. But in your situation, psychology hasn't helped at all." She nodded in agreement, and he continued: "Did any of their advice actually do you any good—all those specialists you’ve seen?"

"It did absolutely nothing for me. Nothing! It only reinforced my desire to commit suicide."

"Well, then, you have nothing to lose by having a child," he concluded. "You’ll always lose less than losing your life."

Emma considered everything they had discussed, yet she was reluctant to give it any credence. Alder couldn't be right; the solution he was proposing still seemed absurd, no matter how he dressed it up or reasoned it out. Besides, she thought, what could he—what could any man—possibly know about how a woman felt?

"Okay, but how do you know all that?" she asked. "Huh? How do you know so much about female psychology? Like... are you a psychologist?"

"No," he replied. "I am... or rather, I was... an encyclopedia salesman."

"A salesman... of what? Like..."

"Encyclopedias. Do you know what those are?"

"Like Wikipedia?"

"Yes, more or less. They were books. People used them a lot in the twentieth century. Since the Internet didn't exist, people looked up information in books. An encyclopedia is a collection of books covering every subject."

"Oh, right," she nodded. "Well then, tell me. If you aren't a psychologist, like... how can you know that...?"

"Well, I'll give you two reasons," he said wryly, turning her teasing back on her. "First, I didn't just sell them. I read them, too."

"You read them?"

"Yeah."

"And that's where you learned what you told me earlier about the brain, right?"

"Yeah, exactly. And everything I've told you just now, too. I learned it from solid treatises written by people who weren't tainted or indoctrinated by the gender ideology that prevails today."

"Well, that... Like... men probably wrote them."

"No. Women. Experts in psychology, anthropology..."

"Okay, sure," she interrupted, realizing she was getting nowhere with that line of questioning. "And the second reason? Why do you know so much about female psychology—aside from books?"

"The second is the most important." He paused and looked at her, making an effort to smile—a sad smile, if such a thing is possible.

"What is it?"

"Well, I’m old, and I’ve lived a long life. I’m much older than I look, and—to my misfortune—I’ve known many women. That’s why I know. I know that’s how women are, and not because some treatise says so. I know it because I’ve seen it for myself, through my own experience."

Emma studied him closely as he gazed straight ahead with a look of sadness—that deep melancholy that so often settled upon his face.

She wondered why he had been involved with so many women, who they were, and what kind of experiences he had shared with them to reach such a conclusion.

She was on the verge of asking more about it but couldn't bring herself to do so. Alder had stood up and was starting to leave. After murmuring an almost imperceptible "see you tomorrow," he began to walk away slowly. Dawn was fast approaching, and he was tired. It was time to go home.