Seeing Fernando sitting in front of me was probably one of the most unsettling feelings I’d ever had. I stared at him in awe, trying to hide the anxiousness I suddenly felt at the sight of him. He plastered a stoic face, and only two guards were standing on both sides of Fernando. I was right, he looked just like an Italian mafia boss in his early thirties. But I knew he was older than that, he just appeared younger because there weren’t any apparent wrinkles that formed on his face. I knew where Miguel had inherited his features, and I could already visualize how he would look like when he got old. 

The next day, Gwen, Miguel, and I left the hotel in the afternoon along with William’s men. We would be heading to the person Miguel was referring to yesterday and we would try to talk to him or her about Fernando. To be honest, I was full of anticipation and I was being optimistic about the outcome. I wouldn’t deny, I was still a little nervous. We were inside the car and Miguel was in the driver’s seat. Gwen was sitting at the back while I was on the shotgun.

The whole ride on the way back to the hotel was quiet. We immediately left Paola’s house after the conversation we had, and Miguel didn’t choose to persuade her more for he understood her situation. All that I could do at that moment was empathize with her for her loss and we did everything we could to not make her feel bad about not helping us. Miguel also had told her to go to their mother which Paola instantly declined since she felt hesitant to show up to him. Then we all bid her goodbye along with Xavier.