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13

"Maybe your thing is to write about real things," Kendall spoke with his mouth full of chocolate. His fingers lightly surrounded the corners of his lips, being sucked soon after. "Do you know those biographies that people want to write, but don't know where to start? You can be the person who knows how to use words to shout what the world pretends not to hear.

"It's no use, Keny," my father murmured, spiteful. "Your friend thinks that being a writer is as stupid as paying attention to the family that stayed on another continent.

I laughed sharply, moving away from the closet to have space. "I'm not ignoring anyone, if that's what you're insinuating.

He didn't move.

“Your sister calls every day.

"For me, she doesn't turn on," I shrugged, recovering my cell phone on the counter just in case. "You could accept the fact that no one in that country cares about our existence. It would be less ridiculous, Dad.

My father sighed, looked down and began to unroll the dishcloth in his hands. "Don
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