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Dylan licked his parched little lips, looking up at his father, with what little lucidity he had, the man stroked his tousled hair.

"Where's mommy?" asked the little boy, with that innocence that always filled the man with enthusiasm for life.

It was daytime, a sunny one. The party had left everyone exhausted, including the little boy who had not climbed on the roof because it had been impossible for him to do so, but his hyperactivity was the reason why he had slept late. It was eleven o'clock in the morning and little Dylan lay with his eyes barely open, asking for what he thought was his mother.

"She sleeps," Maximiliano answered him, although it made no sense and he knew it: Dylan was falling deep into another dream, he had not even heard his answer, "She sleeps like an angel".

Maximiliano covered the little boy with a soft, thick blanket and then left the room at a leisurely pace.

Last night had been the best night he had ever had in his bitter life. The woman had laid her head o