87 - Joana

I watched the man, frowning.

"What were you?”

"Cousands," he said, shaking his head painfully. So he reached out a hand to me. "I call Pietro Gusman.”

"Joana" I said back, shaking your hand. " Why did you never get along?”

"Ah, our families have always had a lot of problems," he said vaguely, so he shrugged. "It's complicated.”

"I hope you get well too," I sincerely wished.

"Oh, I'll stay... It is always very sad to see someone being buried, but death will come to everyone. I'll accept it.”

"Yes, you're right.”

"Do you believe in destiny, Joana?”

I frowned, totally confused.

"I think so.”

"I totally believe," he said still in a gloomy tone, watching the burial before us. "A while ago, I was no one in my life. I spent a few years lamenting about a past that I barely remembered properly. So I met some people who changed me completely. These people were friends with others, and others, and I ended up becoming part of a circle full of people who didn't know why they knew each other. It's