And then came the phone call from that teacher of yours. What was her name? Dalia? I think it was Dalia. As I already wrote you, at that moment I thought it was a sign from above. I know it sounds like twisted logic to you, but I genuinely believed that even if you caught me going through your things, you wouldn’t be angry with me. That you’d even appreciate it, that I’d go to such lengths to be part of your life. You know how much I wanted my mother to go through my things? As a kid I used to write letters containing my most intimate secrets and scatter them around the house, hoping she’d read them, but she never so much as touched them. She just didn’t care, Yuli. So when I found your paper on the bed, I truly believed you had left it there for me to find.