It was a word that I had been quick to believe that I was the victim of a great illusion, a phantasmagoria of allucinado; but the sudden entrance of Ezekiel, shouting, "Mama! mom! it's time for mass! "he restored me to the consciousness of reality. Capitú and I, involuntarily, looked at the photograph of Escobar, and then at each other. This time the confusion of it became pure confession. This was that one; there was by force some small Escobar photograph that would be our little Ezekiel. But he did not confess anything; repeated the last words, pulled his son and left for Mass.