**You're the same age**, he said, his voice low and rough, like he was piecing together a puzzle that had been scattered for years. His eyes darted between Silvia and me, searching our faces for something—maybe a trace of himself, maybe a memory he couldn’t quite grasp. His gaze lingered, heavy with hope.
I turned to Silvia, my heart twisting in my chest. Her brow was furrowed, her lips pressed tight, and I could tell she was wrestling with the same storm of confusion and doubt that churned inside me. Her eyes, wide and searching, met mine for a fleeting moment, and in that glance, I saw the same question burning in her mind: *What is happening here?* Silvia’s voice broke the silence, steady but edged with urgency. “What was her name?” she asked, her words hanging in the air like a challe
