ADRIÁN POV
I can’t stop looking for them.
During registration, while Victoria fills out forms and coordinates schedules with the efficiency of a general organizing troops, my eyes scan the lobby as if they have a will of their own. Searching. Waiting to see those three children again. To confirm that I didn’t imagine them—that they weren’t a hallucination brought on by jet lag and five years of accumulated absence.
“Adrián, I need you to sign here,” Victoria says, extending a folder.
I sign without reading. She gives me a strange look but doesn’t comment. She knows my silences well enough to know when to push and when to step back.
The event coordinator—an effusive Italian man in a navy-blue suit—hands us our badges with a professional smile.
“Mr. Valcor, Ms. Mendoza, it’s an honor t
