 A few hours before I went to live with my aunt, Yvalia came to say good-bye to me. I was happy to see her because prior to her visit, I was crying alone in my empty bedroom at Uncle Andre’s house; I was still skeptical about my adaption with the small corner in my aunt’s house, but I managed to not let Yvalia see that I was crying. As a matter of fact, I held a smiley face. Something unexpected was going to happen: a moment of passion. “Hey, Evenson, are you okay?” “I am trying, little mango.” “Is that you, Evenson?” Yvalia called out, approaching slowly. Like she used to do, she jumped to give me the most perfect friendly hug. ... |
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