VICTOR

I looked at the time as I stepped out of the airport. It was almost evening. I had just arrived in italy to see Nicholas.

Usually, we would have talked on the phone but I would do anything to make sure I see him over and over again.

I was trying to establish a relationship, the father-son relationship which Elizabeth, his mother, had denied me.

But it wasn't an easy job convincing a 30 year old young man, who had lived all his life believing another man was his father, until he found clues which led him to me 6 years ago.

The cold Mexican air clung to my...