I raised the bracelet.
—Because this came out of his pocket.
The old woman looked down, as if she feared she had done something wrong.
—I kept it all these years —whispered—. It was the only thing I had of you.
My mother took a step towards me.
—Andrea, listen to me. That woman is sick. He has been making up stories for decades. He doesn’t know what he’s saying.
—Then you tell me the truth.
For the first time in my life, my mother hesitated.
It was only a second.
But I saw it.
And that second was enough for my whole world to start reeling.
—We’re going home —he finally said.
—No.
The word came out by itself.
I had never said no to him.
Never.
My mother narrowed her eyes.
—You don’t know who you’re dealing with.
The old woman let out a weak laugh.
—Of course he does know —he murmured—. He’s dealing with his mother.
Silence fell again.
Heavy.
