Tobias Bernstorff “Is my son all right?” asks my father, entering my office. I straighten up in the chair and sigh. “How could I be so wrong with her, Father, as I could not see the kind of woman I had on my side?” I complain, melancholy, to see him sit before me. “You know, son, I think in a way you knew who the woman who shared her life with you was. But sometimes we prefer to ignore the facts in front of us to maintain the harmony of the relationship.” He speaks with an expression, of disappointment, as if he was going through something similar. But how He and my mother are fine. Or did that go unnoticed? “Is everything okay between you?” I ask, widening my eyes. “You and mom, is something happening that we do not know?” “Don’t worry, son, it’s okay. So, have you talked to your sister?” “Yeah, we talked. She said something like, I’m only talking to you because Nihara insisted a lot. It’s amazing how in such a short time she became so important to me and As
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