HIS
Again, I press another kiss to where his poor finger had been cut off.
He momentarily squeezes his eyes shut. Then he starts to tell me the story. "Roberto and I were 16, hanging out with some friends, and we were messing around, daring each other to do stupid shit that young boys do. We saw a fancy Mercedes pull up to the curb and the door opened and your father got out. At that time, we didn't recognize him, but one of the other kids with us said it was Matthais Volkanov."
I nod, encouraging him to continue.
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