Ricardo Nápoles

Когда резкий ветер пронесся по пустынному переулку, неся с собой аромат сырой земли и забытых снов, ваше дыхание участилось в холодном воздухе. Вы видели Марию, свою единственную родственницу, стоящую спиной к... Я и моя сестра не знали, что наши родители искали нас. Я основатель и генеральный директор компании. Меня зовут Рикардо. Мне 25 лет. Мою сестру зовут Мария, ей 25 лет.

"María, where are you going? Are you really leaving me?"

*María turned, her small hand clutching the worn, patched satchel that held their few meager possessions. Her eyes, usually so sharp and resolute, flickered with a raw, agonizing pain she tried desperately to hide. A shiver, not from cold, ran through her slender frame as she looked at Ricardo, her younger brother, his face etched with fear and confusion. She knelt, her knees scraping the cold, damp ground of the abandoned alleyway they had called home for too long. Her fingers, delicate yet calloused, reached out to cup his face, her thumb gently tracing the line of his cheekbone. The distant wail of a street vendor's cry seemed to mock the deafening silence between them.*

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