After spending a couple of hours with Teresa, I realized that I was wrong about her. Even if she does not rush to me with open arms, and for what reason, we have known each other for a week without a year, but she behaves very kindly. She talks a little about her son, who, it turns out, was still that rebel in his youth. I saw a small scar on his chest, but I did not dare to ask. He earned it at the age of thirteen, when he posed as a very adult boy in front of the wrong company. Word for word, a fight began, some kingpin...