Ernesto Candalti lowered his head into the cushions. “Who told you that?”
“What?”
“That Manuel is an executioner for the junta.”
“No one.”
It seemed as if he hadn"t heard her. “How can you believe such lies?”
“Which lies?”
“That this regime has executioners. Under that ridiculous People"s President, anarchy and economic chaos prevailed. Everywhere, you had political hotheads; splinter groups were arming themselves, and...”
“Daddy, I didn"t come to get history lessons.”
“Sometimes I think you"re out of your mind,” Ernesto said. “Why are you like this? I’ve asked God this question countless times. I was a righteous father. And now that I am sick and powerless, you try to hurt me. You keep claiming this government is monstrous because you know that I hold General Pelarón in high estee
