PART 9 – The Man Who Knew Everything
The name on the paper remained before my eyes.
Victor.
The same name Daniel had mentioned.
The same name which, according to Elena, was responsible for the biggest loss of her life.
Pero—but I still didn't understand why.
Who was this man?
And why did he have so much power over my past?
I looked at Laura.
"Do you know him?"
She nodded slowly.
"Yes."
My heart began to beat faster.
"Who is he?"
Laura looked at the letter in her hands.
"Victor was our father's brother."
I felt a cold chill run through my body.
"My uncle?"
"Yes."
I sat down slowly.
A man from my own family.
Someone who carried the same last name.
Someone who had been close enough to change everything.
Laura recounted that once Victor was considered a respected man.
He helped people with administrative paperwork.
He knew lawyers.
He knew how to arrange official documents.
When Elena had found herself in a difficult situation after my birth, he had offered to help her.
"Our mother trusted him," Laura said.
"She thought he was protecting her."
"Instead he abused her trust."
I looked at the table.
"Why?"
Laura took a deep breath.
"Because he thought he knew what was best for everyone."
I frowned.
"That doesn't sound like a reason to me."
"No."
She looked at me.
"Pero—but certain people convince themselves they're doing good, even when they're hurting others."
According to Laura, Victor had carried a secret with him for years.
He thought Elena was too young.
Too fragile.
He believed she couldn't offer a stable life.
That's why he made decisions behind her back.
He made sure I ended up with another family.
Not because Elena didn't love me.
But because he thought he had the right to decide my life.
I felt anger rising.
Not the anger of a day.
Pero—but the pain of decades without answers.
"Why didn't anyone stop him?"
Laura looked sad.
"Because no one knew exactly what he had done."
"Not even our father found out until much later."
I thought back to the man who had raised me.
To his silences.
To his strange reactions when I asked questions about my childhood.
Maybe he didn't know everything.
Maybe he too had lived with a truth he didn't dare speak.
Laura picked up another envelope.
"I found it along with the letter."
"Whose is it?"
"Our father's."
I looked at her, surprised.
"Why didn't you give it to me before?"
"Because I wanted to know if you were ready first."
I opened the envelope.
The handwriting was different.
More decisive.
More stern.
Pero—but I recognized it.
My father.
Dear Paolo,
If you read this, I am no longer around to explain my mistakes.
My breath caught.
I didn't tell you everything because I was afraid the truth would break you.
I swallowed.
Pero—but maybe my biggest mistake was thinking I could protect you by staying silent.
I had to stop for a moment.
Because suddenly I heard his voice again.
The voice that one day said:
"Don't worry, kid."
"Everything will be fine."
I kept reading.
"For years I thought loving meant hiding the pain from you."
"Pero—but now I understand that loving also means giving someone the truth, no matter how difficult it may be."
My hands began to shake.
My father had repented.
He knew something was wrong.
Pero—but he had waited too long.
Just like Elena.
Just like so many people in my life.
Everyone had tried to protect me.
Pero—but no one had asked me what I wanted to know.
I looked at Laura.
"Where is Victor now?"
Her expression changed.
As if she had been waiting for that question.
"He's still alive."
I stiffened.
"Where?"
She gave me an address.
A small village outside town.
"I think he knows the truth would come out sooner or later."
"Why?"
"Because in recent years Victor has been very lonely."
I looked at the address.
Part of me wanted answers.
Pero—but another part was afraid.
What would happen if I went there?
What if I found out that someone in my own family had deliberately changed my life?
The next morning I left for that address.
The whole way I wondered what I should have said.
Should I have gotten angry?
Should I have asked questions?
Should I have forgiven him?
I didn't know.
When I arrived, there was an old man in the garden.
He was maybe eighty years old.
He looked up when he saw me.
And his expression changed immediately.
As if he knew why I was there.
"Paolo..."
My heart stopped for a moment.
"Do you know my name?"
He lowered his gaze.
"Yes."
"Who are you?"
The old man looked at the floor.
Then he said softly:
"I am the man who made your mother wait all her life."
I felt tears well up in my eyes.
Pero—but before I could say anything, he grabbed an old box next to him.
"There's something you need to see."
He opened the box.
Inside was a photo.
A photo of Elena.
Pero—but next to her was a newborn.
Me.
And on the back of the photo was a date.
The day I was born.
Pero—but there was something else written.
A sentence that made my whole body stiffen:
"If Paolo comes back one day, he must know that his mother never gave up."
I looked at Victor.
And for the first time I didn't see a powerful man.
I saw an old man with tears in his eyes.
"Why?" I asked.
"Why did you do this to us?"
He closed his eyes.
And his answer left me speechless:
"Because I thought I was saving your life... but I destroyed mine."
