(MENAFN- Newsroom Panama) In Las Palmas de San Carlos, where the mountains seem to silently watch over human sins, everyone remembers the arrival of the Ewert-Brandow couple. They came from the frozen north of the United States, dragging suitcases, dreams... and something else, something that no one could name then. They bought a large plot of land, enclosed with chain-link fencing and iron gates, as if from the beginning it had been necessary to contain what would happen there. They built a house in their own style: strange, silent, with windows that seemed to flicker as evening fell. The neighbors welcomed them warmly. Don Plutarco Cisneros, who had lived there for decades, remembered how the couple would give rides to anyone they met along the way and how every December they would hand out toys, candy, and smiles. Everything seemed perfect, almost too perfect. But houses, the old folks say, learn the vices of their owners. And that one didn't take long.

The First Death

On August 28, 2018, the employee arrived as usual, expecting to find Richard Ewert sunbathing or watering the plants. But she found him in bed, motionless, with a dark bump on his head. The floor, the living room, and the bedroom had an irregular trail of blood, as if someone had staggered through, leaving crumbs of their life. Richard had been drinking since the day before. They say he fell, that he bled, that he tried to get to his bed... and that the house let him sleep forever. His wife, Linda Brandow, mourned him with lit cigarettes one after another, so much so that neighbors claimed that, in the early hours of the morning, the house seemed to smoke by itself, spitting out small puffs of light from the windows.

The Second Death

One month and five days later, on October 3rd, the house again had a strange smell. This time it smelled of liquor and spilled pills. Linda was found sitting in a chair, her eyes lost on a spot on the wall where, according to some neighbors, the wood creaked every night, as if someone were walking inside. On her lap: an open bottle of pills, several rolling among the fabric of her clothes. Her brother, Larry Brandow, swore that Linda only drank. But those who knew how to look closely claimed that she smoked tobacco with a ravenous anxiety, as if trying to ward off something that breathed behind her.

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