– My father’s brother.
I blinked puzzled.
– Your uncle?
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Michael was smiling sadly.
That’s how you were taught to believe.
Daniel was tightening his jaw.
– Tell Her.
Michael took out of his pocket an old wallet and, from him, a bent photo.
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He’s stretching it out.
In the photo were two young men.
One was Daniel’s father.
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The other was Michael.
They looked striking.
On the back of the photo was handwritten:
“Robert and Michael, 1992.”
“You were brothers,” I said.
– Yes.
Daniel sits down.
“My father told me that Michael died in an accident when I was ten years old.
Michael rubbed his forehead.
That was simpler than the truth.
Then he raises his eyes to Daniel.
Your father made me disappear from the family.
Why?
Michael is hesitant.
Because of your mother.
The room seemed to shrink.
