“Here we go...” Miguel said kissing Camila on her forehead, putting down the bottle of wine and two glasses he brought with him. “What are you doing?” Miguel asked when he saw the look on Camila’s face and the picture she’s holding in her hands.

He recognized the picture, it’s her daughters picture, he remembered she cried a lot before holding the same picture when his dad brought her to their place from the orphanage.

He could still remember how pale she looked the first day they met, his dad had explained everything about her to him and he could not believe how unfair life had been to her, maybe...