The small group stands by the foot of the hill not too far from her native Xocó lands, the tears stinging Les’s still battered face as he hangs on to Tupac’s tiny hand, trying to keep his sanity. Cat most likely picks up her father’s emotional distress, and their son is staring at the stone, his tears running, but he’s not making a single sound, barely even breathing.
After what seems like an eternity, Les crouches down and hugs his son. “Mami will always look after you and your sister, love, even if you can’t see her. It is us three now, we still have each other, we will be good to each other, mami would have wanted that.”
Tupac nods silently, and the dam finally bursts, sobbing helplessly as he clings to his papi for dear life, unable to make a coherent word.
Les just holds him, holds their children close, then after a long time, he gathers them both up in his arms, holding them tight to his chest. “We should go now, my love.” Tupac still keeps his head buried into his father’s neck, mumbling “We go home to farm now, papi?”
“No, we’re going to a friend of mine that lives in a place called Temuco, he will let us stay there for a while. But we will probably come back here one day, sweets. One day.”
He looks over Tupac’s shoulder at the blurred image of the stone, whispering, before they turn away. “Goodbye, mi princesita. I love you just the way you were and I love you more than words.”
