Candado was settled in his armchair, engrossed in a book, while Hammya played with Karen at his side. Clementina was feeding Lentejuela the turtle, and Candado’s parents were resting in the upstairs room. Hipólito and Andrea were out. It was a tranquil, work-free Sunday. A peaceful silence reigned in the living room—not an awkward one, but the kind that only exists in places of trust; a silence where the only sounds came from the small actions of those present.

  A warm afternoon in a warm home, within a warm family.

  “Hammya, pass me the mate, please.”

  The girl took the gourd and handed it to him.

  “Here.”

  “Mmh.”

  Candado brought the metal straw to his lips and drank.

  “Canda.”

  “Mmh,” he repeated, without lifting his gaze from the book.

  “Pass me the controller, please.”

  Candado snapped his fingers, and the remote control began to float toward Hammya’s hands.

  “Thanks.”

  Clementina walked past them, carrying a wooden chair with a loose leg, humming a soft melody. Karen, in a sudden burst of affection, grabbed Hammya’s thumb and began to suck on it.

  “Chst, no!” Hammya scolded, trying to pull away.

  Karen complained with a tiny sound. Candado pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and gave it to her.

  “Thank you,” Hammya smiled.

  Candado took a final sip of the mate, set it on the table, and lifted Karen onto his lap.

  “Come here, my little cherry.”

  Karen closed her eyes and settled onto his chest.

  “Sleepy now?”

  “She’s clever,” Hammya mocked while cleaning her finger. “Maybe she’ll even surpass the young master.”

  Candado sighed.

  “Karen, never be like your sister Clem.”

  Clementina looked up and smiled.

  “Candado.”

  “Mmh,” he replied, taking another sip of mate.

  “I have a question… maybe you can help me.”

  “Politics, history, biology, sociology, language? What can I do for you?”

  “It’s personal.”

  “Fine… what is it?”

  “You know everyone’s birthdays, but I’ve never had a chance to ask you.”

  Candado looked at Hammya and raised an eyebrow.

  “Why do you want to know?”

  “It’s just… you have a lot of friends.”

  “And?”

  “Lucas’s birthday.”

  “February fourteenth.”

  “The twins’ birthday.”

  “November eighth.”

  “The birthday of—”

  Candado set the mate aside and interrupted her:

  “Everyone’s birthdays: Declan, February 1st; Anzor, June 11th; Viki, October 14th; Pucheta, August 18th; German, March 16th; Héctor, February 21st; that condemned fool Matlotsky, May 5th; Walsh, October 31st; Clementina…”

  “That’s me…”

  “July 9th… Liv, October 3rd; Park, April 8th; Andersson, January 7th; Mauricio, June 27th; Krauser, November 1st; Natalia, October 10th; Antonela, January 14th; Diana and Logan, the same day, June 4th; Grenia, August 19th; and of course, you, December 6th. Are you happy?”

  “Hammya is happy.”

  “Why do you talk like that?”

  “No reason.”

  Candado opened his mouth to say something, but quickly closed it and returned to his reading. Hammya watched him for a few seconds.

  “You haven’t changed at all.”

  “That’s obvious.”

  “So it seems,” she smiled and continued. “I hope you never do.”

  “That’s impossible. Everyone changes. My mindset and my way of seeing things won’t be the same ten years from now.”

  Suddenly, there was a knock at the door.

  “I’ll get it,” Clementina said, standing up.

  “I hope they’re not coming to bother us with the word of God.”

  Hammya let out a laugh.

  “It’s Anzor,” Clementina announced from the entryway.

  Candado closed his book and got to his feet.

  “Anzor.”

  “Guess what I’m eating that makes you so smart.”

  “What a pleasant surprise.”

  “You’re making me blush,” Anzor joked with a smile.

  Candado sighed.

  “Forget it,” he muttered, then straightened his tie and invited him in.

  Anzor entered as if it were his own house and sat on the armchair next to Hammya’s.

  “Hello, Ham. Hello, mini-Barret.”

  Hammya greeted him, but Karen frowned, annoyed by his presence.

  “Just like her brother,” Anzor smiled.

  “Tea or soda?” Clementina asked.

  “Tea, please.”

  Clementina headed to the kitchen, just as Candado was coming out with a cup of tea.

  “That’s my job,” she said, taking the cup from his hands. “Now, my apologies.”

  Candado rolled his eyes and, resigned, filled his thermos with hot water.

  “Metallic clown,” he muttered under his breath.

  Clementina handed the tea to Anzor.

  “Спасибо” (thank you).

  “Пожалуйста” (you’re welcome).

  “What?” Hammya asked, confused.

  “Nothing, Russian stuff,” Candado replied.

  “Yes, miss, Russian stuff,” Anzor repeated, amused.

  Hammya tilted her head, not understanding.

  Candado then arrived with his thermos in hand.

  “What’s up?”

  Anzor took a sip of his tea.

  “I just came to visit.”

  Candado observed him closely. He knew he was lying, but he played along anyway.

  “Thanks for dropping by. Come on, sit down, make yourself at home.”

  “It is my home, Anzor.”

  “Exactly, sit down,” he laughed. “I was in Paso de Patria.”

  “Ah, Paraguay.”

  “How do you know? It could have been Corrientes.”

  “That’s Paso de la Patria.”

  “Well, I was in the town in Paraguay, and I saw an elderly couple arguing about…”

  For nearly an hour, Anzor recounted an endless chain of anecdotes from his time there with his cousin. Many of them, if not all, were quite irrelevant to Candado; but Clementina and Hammya listened with interest, laughing when he told them about a boy who insulted him in Guaraní and how he had responded in Russian. Candado, meanwhile, calmly drank his mate, paying minimal attention. He knew the whole performance was nothing but an excuse.

  It was only when Anzor finished speaking that Candado set the mate on the table and broke the silence.

  “Anzor.”

  “Yes?”

  “Come to my room.”

  Candado stood up and went upstairs.

  Hammya and Clementina exchanged glances.

  “Is something wrong?” Hammya asked.

  “No idea,” Clementina replied, taking Candado’s mate and thermos. “They probably want privacy.”

  “Right…” Hammya tapped her legs lightly. “I’m going to my room too,” she said, setting Karen down and discreetly scurrying toward the stairs.

  “Alright,” Clementina murmured, beginning to clean up.

  Candado closed the door behind him, with Anzor inside.

  “Sit,” he instructed, pointing to the armchair, as he himself lay back on the bed.

  “Okay.”

  Anzor settled into the seat.

  “Tell me, what happened?”

  “You noticed, didn’t you?”

  “You only do this when something worries you.”

  “Declan… he said you’d know.”

  “He tends to do something similar. When he’s nervous or worried, he starts maintaining his sword. Everyone has a tell when something bothers them.”

  “You’re annoyingly perceptive sometimes.”

  Candado took off his beret and hung it on the bedpost.

  “Yes, I can’t help it.”

  “Haha… you know…”

  “Tell me what’s happening. Stop dragging this out.”

  Anzor dropped his habitual smile. It was rare to see him like that; he, like German, always smiled.

  “My mother… she’s coming this afternoon.”

  Candado sat up on the bed.

  “Oh… I thought it would be something else.”

  Anzor smiled.

  “I wish it was.”

  “When was the last time?”

  “Candado, I haven’t spoken to her or seen her in almost two years.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t apologize, it’s not your fault.”

  Anzor clasped his hands, a sign of faint nervousness.

  “Can I borrow your presence this afternoon?”

  “Of course, of course, I don’t mind at all.”

  Anzor sighed, visibly relieved.

  There was silence for a few minutes.

  “Do you want more tea?” Candado asked.

  “Please.”

  Candado headed to the door and opened it.

  “What…?” he murmured upon seeing Hammya crouched down, in profile, as if she were eavesdropping behind the door.

  “Canda…” she said, immediately standing up and clearing her throat. “I was just checking the… locks?”

  Candado looked at Anzor.

  “Doesn’t bother me,” Anzor smiled.

  Candado turned back to Hammya.

  “Go fly, Emerald,” he said with a sigh, and then looked at Anzor again. “Listen, just let me know when you want me there.”

  “In two hours, alright?”

  “Mmh… plenty of time.”

  Candado and Anzor spent some time watching television and a few movies, but when the two hours were up, they had to leave for the latter’s house. Not before saying goodbye to the girls.

  If you come across this story on Amazon, it's taken without permission from the author. Report it.

  “I’ll be back in a few hours. When my parents get back, let them know, okay?”

  “Of course, young master.”

  Candado sighed.

  “Thanks… and don’t call me that.”

  Then he looked at Hammya and placed a hand on her head.

  “Please stop checking locks now.”

  He smiled at her, and gave both her and Clementina a hug.

  When Candado closed the door behind him, Hammya’s eyes briefly flashed a light green; it was so imperceptible that Clementina didn’t even notice.

  “That’s how it started…” Hammya whispered.

  “Did you say something, miss?” Clementina asked.

  “No, nothing.”

  Candado and Anzor drove to the house of Anzor’s aunt and uncle: Umberto and Milenka Viola. They lived with their two daughters, Katya and Karina Viola. A minor but relevant detail: Candado did not get along with either of them, as both teased him every chance they got.

  When they arrived, the family was sitting in the garden, already dressed to go out, waiting for them.

  “Anzorito, you’re back!” Umberto exclaimed affectionately.

  The Viola family was very particular. Umberto had been born and raised in Paraguay, but at nineteen he moved to Isla del Cerrito, where he met his future wife, Milenka. She had arrived there as an exchange student and decided to stay after finishing her studies. She claimed to have fallen in love with the landscape.

  She was, and still was, incredibly beautiful: blonde hair, fair skin, and pink eyes. She used to wear her hair long, but cut it when she became pregnant for the second time.

  Then there were their daughters. Katya, five years older than Candado, was identical to her mother, except for her eyes: instead of pink, she inherited her father’s color. Karina, on the other hand, had inherited Umberto’s skin and hair, and Milenka’s eyes. She was the same age as Candado, with the same birthday, and was undoubtedly the one he clashed with the most.

  “You brought guests, I see,” Katya commented with a half-smile.

  Candado ignored her and focused on the parents.

  “Don Viola, I’m glad to know you’re in good health.”

  Umberto approached him and hugged him tightly.

  “Don’t be so formal, chamigo.”

  “Yes… sure.”

  He then turned to Mrs. Viola and gave her two kisses on the cheek.

  “I’m also glad that you…”

  Milenka took his arm and pulled him in for a strong, warm hug.

  “Don’t be formal, you’re more than welcome in this house.”

  Candado quickly pulled away.

  “Thank you… I’m also glad you’re enjoying good health.”

  Mrs. Viola smiled kindly.

  Candado then fixed his gaze on Anzor’s cousins, while Anzor watched him with a mix of resignation and silent pleading, as if hoping for an escape clause.

  “Please…” he murmured.

  Candado sighed, approached the two, and held out his hands.

  “Non-aggression pact,” he said.

  The two looked at each other, then at Anzor, and then back at Candado.

  “Only until this is over,” Katya said.

  “Then I’ll play with you,” Karina added.

  Both shook his hand and pretended to be friendly, though everyone knew they weren’t.

  Candado, who couldn’t stand lying, didn’t bother to hide his distaste. It was reflected in his eyes, but he tolerated the cynicism he found sickening.

  The family got into an orange minivan. Candado asked for the seat closest to the door, so Anzor could sit next to him and he wouldn't have to share his personal space with the cousins. The airport was far, almost an hour’s drive.

  Anzor's aunt and uncle talked about politics, while Anzor and his cousins discussed how he felt about seeing his mother again.

  “Awkward, I’d say,” Anzor said without hesitation.

  “Yeah, I think this will be the second reunion with Aunt Yulia,” Karina commented.

  “Do you remember it? Because I don’t,” Katya said.

  “And you’re supposed to be the oldest.”

  “I only remember the grandparents… and how much I hated the snow.”

  “Painful memories, it seems,” Anzor mocked.

  Candado began to slowly close his eyes.

  “Hey, boss,” Anzor said.

  “Tell me,” Candado replied, half-asleep.

  “Do you want to join the conversation?”

  “You guys talk.”

  “It’s just that I feel like we’re leaving you out.”

  “Believe me, I’m not interested.”

  “What’s wrong? Did you run out of sarcasm from Sarcasm Land?”

  “They were half-price, just like your brain, Katy.”

  “Don’t call me that. Only my family has the right.”

  “Too bad. I feel a little sorry for you.”

  “Hey, don’t make fun of my sister.”

  “I’m not making fun, I just called her ‘Katy’ and the glass doll got offended.”

  “Hey…”

  “Enough,” Candado cut in, sighing. “I’m sorry about ‘Katy,’ Katya. Let’s tolerate each other, for the sake of your cousin and my friend.”

  The sisters looked at each other for a moment.

  “We…

  “…apologize too.”

  Anzor smiled and looked out the window.

  A few hours later, they arrived at Resistencia Airport. They were waiting for Anzor’s mother’s flight. By this point, his nervousness was evident to Candado. The boy’s gaze was fixed on the ground, purposelessly watching his own feet.

  As per protocol, his sword had been left in the car. So he was dragging his shoes on the floor to kill time. His family, on the other hand, was all enthusiasm: his aunt was thrilled to see her sister again, and his cousins watched the planes take off and land with fascination.

  Candado, for his part, simply observed. He looked at the surroundings, analyzed the people. With a glance, he intuited the kind of lives they led: how they dressed, how they walked, how they spoke without saying anything.

  “There she is,” Katya pointed out.

  Anzor tensed when he heard that, while Candado stopped looking at others to observe the plane.

  “Wooooo! We’re going to see Aunt Yulia!” Katya said excitedly.

  “Do you think she’ll remember us?” Karina asked.

  “Don’t be silly, of course she remembers you,” Mrs. Viola scoffed, offering an amused smile.

  A few minutes passed before the passengers began to exit the airport. There weren’t many, but not few either. However, Anzor’s mother stood out from everyone else because of how striking she was: her fair skin, her blonde hair, the dark glasses, and that gray suit that did not go unnoticed.

  Anzor’s family ran to greet her, while Candado and he stayed a few steps behind.

  “Relax,” Candado said, approaching his friend. “We’re in this together.”

  Anzor managed a faint smile and moved away from the wall to walk toward his mother. Milenka was the first to reach Yulia and hugged her with genuine affection, though her sister barely responded with a pat on the back.

  “Ах, как я скучал по этому” (Ah, you don't know how much I missed this).

  “Да, я тоже скучал по тебе” (Yes, I missed you too), Yulia replied with an almost impassive expression.

  Milenka stepped back and gave her a condescending smile.

  “Ты ничуть не изменился” (You haven’t changed at all).

  Candado and Anzor approached the group. When Yulia noticed her son’s presence, she removed her dark glasses, revealing pink eyes, as beautiful as they were cold.

  “Анзор, сынок, как ты поживаешь?” (Anzor, son, how have you been?)

  Anzor looked away slightly.

  “Так же, как всегда, мама, так же, как всегда” (The same as always, Mom, the same as always).

  “Я рад(а) знать, что ты находишься в хорошем здоровье” (I’m glad to know you’re in good health).

  “Да, конечно” (Yes, of course).

  Yulia then looked at Candado. Out of respect, he kept his distance, letting his friend talk to his mother. But when she looked directly into his eyes, he felt compelled to respond in kind.

  “Кто твой друг?” (Who is your friend?)

  “Это Кандидо Баррет, человек, которого я уважаю, и мой лучший друг” (This is Candado Barret, someone I respect and my best friend).

  “Хорошо знать, что ты умеешь создавать дружеские связи” (It’s good to know you can form friendly bonds).

  Katya and Karina exchanged looks after hearing that comment.

  Yulia kept her gaze fixed on Candado, as if trying to scrutinize his inner being.

  “Madam, I would appreciate it if you didn’t do that,” Candado said calmly.

  Yulia was barely surprised, although her face remained expressionless.

  “Oh, I’m sorry,” she replied coldly.

  Anzor looked at her with a degree of surprise.

  “No problem,” Candado said.

  “Sister, I don’t want to interrupt, but you should look for your suitcase,” Milenka intervened.

  “My what?”

  “Your suitcase… чемодан.”

  “Ah, that.”

  Yulia, her sister, and her husband went to collect the luggage, leaving the boys alone for a moment.

  “What did my mother do to you?” Anzor asked, somewhere between serious and worried.

  Candado smiled.

  “She analyzed my segalma. She wanted to know if I was weak or strong.”

  “Damn it… I’m sorry.”

  “It’s not your fault. I think she just wanted to know if it was true that I’m your friend.”

  “Even so, she had no right to do that.”

  Candado smiled again.

  “It doesn’t bother me. I did it more for her sake than mine. If she had really analyzed my segalma, she would have fainted.”

  “Thanks for that,” Anzor said with a hint of sarcasm.

  Sometime later, everyone got into the car to head back home. Candado sat between the sisters, while Anzor sat next to his mother. His nervousness was palpable: that cynical smile gave him away, and he kept fiddling with the handle of his sword. His mother watched him fixedly; her inexpressive face was a mystery.

  Candado understood instantly.

  “Heh… that’s the cause,” he whispered to himself.

  Katya leaned toward Candado.

  “This isn’t working,” she whispered.

  “Give them time,” he replied calmly.

  Instantly, Karina joined the conversation.

  “What are you whispering?”

  “Nothing,” Katya quickly answered.

  “Oh, a snack?” Karina asked, offering a small bag of potato chips.

  “Ah, thanks,” Katya said, taking one and putting it in her mouth.

  She then moved the bag toward Candado.

  “No, thank you.”

  Karina shook the bag back and forth, insistent.

  “Come on.”

  Candado looked at her without a word; his face, however, said everything. Finally, he removed one of his gloves, took a small handful of chips, and put them in his mouth in a single bite.

  “Now move away,” he said dryly.

  Karina smiled mischievously.

  “Какова ситуация в школе?” (How is the situation at school?)

  “In Spanish, Mom, if you don’t mind.”

  “Fine,” Yulia conceded.

  “And to answer… I’m doing well in school, I’m the second best in the class.”

  “I can vouch for that,” Candado interjected.

  Yulia then turned her attention to him.

  “So you are number one?”

  “No, I’m sixth in the class. I’m bad at math,” Candado admitted calmly.

  “And who is first?”

  “Ramírez Bonamico Héctor,” he answered with slight pride.

  “A friend of yours?”

  “A friend of ours,” Anzor clarified.

  “Wow… you have more friends?”

  “Yes, Mother, I have more friends,” he replied in a monotone.

  Katya and Karina looked at each other, worried.

  “Oh, Anzor…” Candado whispered.

  For the rest of the trip, Yulia continued to ask her son questions: about school, his friendships, his daily life… but he answered with brief sentences, without elaborating, without showing any interest in continuing the conversation. Candado noticed that throughout the entire journey, only she tried to speak. Anzor, on the other hand, asked her nothing; his disinterest was as evident as it was painful.

  Finally, the car arrived at its destination. The family began to get out, but Yulia remained inside for a few minutes, in silence, as if meditating on her next steps. Although her face was still inexpressive, Candado perceived a nervous tension in her, a kind of despondency. She seemed to feel defeated by the failure of her attempt to get closer to her son.

  “…We’ll talk later,” Yulia finally said.

  “Agreed,” Anzor replied, without even looking at her.

  He opened the door, got out of the car, and closed it with a sharp slam. Katya and Karina approached Candado.

  “What do we do now?” Katya asked.

  “Yeah, this isn’t working,” Karina added, crossing her arms.

  “You two go. I’ll handle it,” Candado said.

  The sisters nodded and got out of the car, leaving them alone.

  “This is going nowhere. I’d better go to my room,” Anzor murmured, tired.

  Candado placed a foot on the door and, with a quick movement, took his sword.

  “Hey…” Anzor protested.

  “I’m keeping this. Your mother came to see you, and you are going to spend time with her.”

  “It’s none of your business.”

  “Now it is. You called me for this, and I’m going to do my job. I’m telling you this as your friend.”

  Anzor let out a sarcastic chuckle.

  “Хе, сплетник” (Heh, gossiper).

  “Я знаю” (I know), Candado replied calmly. “Now get out of the car.”

  Anzor and Candado entered the house. Although Candado had been there on previous visits, he noticed they had made some adjustments: better lighting, a couple of new pieces of furniture, and, of course, the damp stains on the ceiling covered with fresh paint.

  “We know who the favorite is,” Candado whispered.

  “I know,” Anzor replied with resignation.

  Candado sighed, removed his facón (knife), and left it in its usual spot, on the stool by the entrance, just as Uncle Umberto requested.

  “And the sword?” Anzor asked.

  “It’s staying with me until you do what I said.”

  Anzor rolled his eyes.

  “I’ll be in my room if you need me.”

  Candado raised an eyebrow.

  “Isidro… this boy,” he muttered to himself, ironically.

  He then walked to the dark brown armchair in the living room and sank into it, relaxing.

  “This is going to take a while,” he grumbled.

  At that moment, Karina and Katya sat down next to him.

  “First,” Candado announced with annoyance, “you have two other armchairs. Go and sit over there.”

  “My house, my rules about where to sit to watch TV,” Karina retorted, gently hitting his cheek with the remote control.

  “Katya…” Candado murmured, restraining his patience.

  “I’m just planning to read,” she replied, opening a book.

  Candado sighed and looked at the cover.

  “El creador de corazones” (The Heart Maker), by José Vizcarra,” he read aloud.

  Katya nodded.

  “Yes, he’s my favorite author. He’s written three books: ‘Noche efímera’ (Ephemeral Night), ‘La última carta de Lana’ (Lana’s Last Letter), and ‘El planeta de los seis minutos’ (The Planet of Six Minutes).”

  “Interesting. What’s this one about?”

  “Oh, it’s about a man who makes hearts in a dystopian world dominated by technology. People have replaced almost all their human parts with machines, and he dedicates himself to building artificial hearts.”

  “Oh, interesting.”

  “Yes, but the best part is the protagonist, Bella Loving.”

  “Oh, really?”

  “Yes. She’s a girl who wants to understand why a man who hates synthetics—that is, people with robotic parts—creates hearts for them.”

  Candado unconsciously recalled something similar in his own life.

  “I suppose it sounds interesting.”

  “Of course. She doesn’t know anything at first, but as she spends time with him, she starts to fall in love.”

  “Yeah… you better keep reading. I’m going to see what they’re doing in the kitchen.”

  “Хорошо” (Alright), Katya replied without looking up from the book.

  Candado started to walk toward the kitchen but stopped when he noticed the aunt and uncle talking among themselves. Yulia was not there. Without much mental effort, he deduced she was upstairs. He hesitated for a moment, wondering whether he should go talk to the aunt and uncle or “ensure” everything was fine between his friend and his mother.

  He scratched the back of his neck and decided to go upstairs. There were only two rooms: Anzor’s and another that looked like a storage room for old items—books, clothes, and toys. The door to the first was ajar.

  Candado leaned against the wall and listened. Yulia’s voice sounded mechanical, distant. It seemed more like a clinical evaluation than a maternal conversation: she asked about her son’s life in their native language, emotionlessly, like a robot. Anzor, for his part, barely responded with monosyllables—yes, no, I don’t know—without elaborating or showing interest, even when she reformulated the same question over and over.

  “…What do you want to know?” he finally asked, irritated.

  Candado felt the change in his tone. He even answered in Spanish:

  “Are these questions for a purpose? Or are you preparing the way for something really heavy?”

  Yulia sensed her son was forcing her to speak in Spanish.

  “I wanted to know if you want to leave… with me, for home.”

  Anzor looked up; tears were visible in his eyes.

  “What the hell is wrong with you?”

  Candado was about to intervene but stopped and decided to keep listening.

  “Go home… What home? The empty, silent house, the gloomy house where the only person who puts wood in the kamin (fireplace) is me.”

  “Yes, Dima. That house.”

  Anzor’s breathing began to hitch until he finally stood up.

  “You’ve already forgotten why I’m here, who… EXILED me?!”

  “I didn’t exile you, I sent you to your aunt and uncle’s.”

  Anzor laughed, sarcastic.

  “Thanks, what a nice gesture… Two years. Two damn years I waited for a letter from you, two birthdays I waited for a gift from you, two years I waited for news from my mother. And what do you think? Spying on Aunt Enka’s mail, I noticed you were very, very happy to chat more with her than with me.”

  Candado was surprised by that.

  “I…”

  “I did write to you. For fourteen months I wrote to you, two letters a month. Did you even receive them?”

  “…”

  “I see.”

  Anzor wiped his tears.

  “I don’t need you. As far as I’m concerned, you can rot in the cold Russian winter, just like that piece of shit father who…”

  Yulia slapped him. She took a moment, and when she realized what she had done, she tried to fix the situation.

  “I’m sorry… простите (forgive me).”

  “If you hate me, if you don’t want me around, then say so.”

  Anzor’s left cheek was red, standing out too much against his fair skin.

  “I don’t want anything from you. Grandfather was more by my side than you.”

  He then proceeded to leave the room, noticing Candado leaning against the wall.

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t apologize, Candado,” he said, and then smiled. “I’m going to the guild to be with the guys. You can keep the sword.”

  Anzor went downstairs, leaving Candado alone with his mother.

  “I suppose… he hates me.”

  “Maybe.”

  Candado approached her.

  “She’s bad at communicating what she thinks, Madam.”

  Yulia looked at him with a cold, emotionless expression.

  “I know what you’re thinking: that I’m a child and I don’t understand what adults or parents talk about.” Candado sighed and continued. “But you can’t imagine how much I understand that.”

  “You are wrong about one thing, young man. I don’t think so little of you. I understand and comprehend your way of seeing things. Although you don't show it, it seems you have seen and done things that have hurt you.”

  Candado was slightly surprised.

  “In the automobile…”

  “It’s called a car or a coach.”

  “In the carriage…”

  “…”

  “…I could see you weren’t happy to see me. I feel like I’m losing him.”

  “Anzor… never told me about his life in Russia. Apparently, it’s not a pleasant memory, so I respected his silence and his past. But if you truly want to be part of his life, you have to show that you feel it and that you want him.”

  “I want him…”

  “I’m glad. But don’t tell me, tell him. Otherwise, if you don’t love him and are only taking him from a place where he feels happy to one that makes him miserable, you would have to go through me.”

  Yulia smiled.

  “I’m glad to know you care about him.”

  “He’s my friend, and he’s the second person who uses humor to escape reality.”

  “I…”

  Candado tossed Anzor’s sword into her hands.

  “He doesn’t hate you at all. He’s hurt to see you, but he’s also happy to see you.”

  Candado then went to look for Anzor. As he descended the stairs, he ran into Katya and Karina, who immediately pointed out his whereabouts.

  Anzor had locked himself in the car, curled up in a fetal position.

  “This is going to be a headache.”

  Candado approached the car and knocked on the door.

  “It’s not locked,” Anzor said without looking at him.

  Candado opened the door and sat down facing him.

  “Look, I’m not good at this stuff.”

  “I know,” Anzor said with a hint of joy in his voice.

  “Yeah… Héctor, Walsh, Clementina, Hammya, even the cursed Matlotsky is good at this.”

  “Yeah, I can imagine.”

  “Right… well, look,” Candado said, scratching the back of his neck. “Family… it’s like a system. Everyone has their function, their rules, their ways of interacting… and sometimes it fails, or someone breaks something, and… everything falls apart.”

  Anzor tilted his head slightly, interested despite himself.

  “Yeah, I know,” Candado continued. “You can’t always fix it. There aren’t always instructions. The only thing you can do is… enter it and find your place. Know where you fit, even if everything is upside down.”

  “But… what if I don’t want to fit in?” Anzor whispered, his voice faint.

  “Then you have to choose: either you stay outside and suffer because everything continues without you, or you go in and play by the rules, even if it hurts sometimes, or you don’t fully understand. Nobody guarantees it will work… but at least you’re there.” Candado paused and looked at him. “And you, Anzor… you’re part of that system, even if you try to deny it.”

  Anzor remained silent. His breathing slowly calmed down.

  “And you know what?” Candado said, lowering his voice. “You don’t have to speak nicely, or act like everything is okay. That doesn’t matter. What matters is that you are there, and that you don’t erase yourself from what is yours.”

  Anzor nodded slowly, still avoiding eye contact.

  “Good…” Candado finally said. “So, first… we breathe. Second… we take one step at a time. And third… don’t look at me like that, I don’t promise it will be easy, but I can accompany you while you do it.”

  Anzor let out a slight sigh and, for the first time that day, allowed himself to relax a little.

  “Yeah… I think I can try that,” he said with a faint smile. “Thanks, Canda.”

  “Canda…” Candado frowned and then smiled sideways. “You’re going to ruin me, Dima.”

  Anzor laughed, relaxed by his friend’s words, and the car stopped feeling like a prison.

  “You know? She is like you, who knows, maybe it will be good to talk to her.”

  “Really? Systems?” a voice said.

  Candado sighed, annoyed, and got out of the car. There was Tínbari, sitting on the car roof, looking relaxed.

  “You’re bad at being sensitive.”

  “Yes, I know, but I don’t want you to tell me.”

  “Yeah, right, systems,” Tínbari said, laughing.

  “Leave before I hit you.”

  “I can’t, I have to tell you something.”

  “What?”

  Tínbari stopped laughing and became serious.

  “Sara De Holly Truth.”