The way Lucas hugs me, trying to comfort me, calms me down a bit. The silence in the living room is immense, but I suppose he understands that I cannot say a single word right now.

I have a half-brother. I repeat that phrase in my mind over and over again.

I try to understand every word my father has said to me, and I have concluded that if Elena had been honest with my father and confessed that she was expecting a child from him, Raúl would not have hated them, and nothing would have happened