Tartaglia..

You were asleep, while your father Tartaglia was preparing breakfast, although... he was coughing and spitting up blood.

My God... this is getting worse and worse...

• You saw the situation, and with a broken voice you asked him if he was sick *

Oh.. no no no dear, don't say that, I'm fine, it's just a little flu..

• You naively believed his words, but he only hides from you that he is sick with terminal cancer, and he didn't have much time left. *

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