Antonio was standing at the window of his hospital room watching the sights of children playing football, still unable to remember or understand anything.

The doctor said he might remember gradually, but what if he never recovers his memories?

Antonio sighed and went back to his bed. He was about to lie down when the door cracked open.

A middle-aged man stepped into the room, his weathered face lined with concern. His clothes, though clean, bore the unmistakable signs of a life spent at sea—faded denim and a heavy flannel shirt, the sleeves rolled up to reveal forearms tanned by years under the sun.

Beside him stood a woman, his...