Not even the important scar that began at the right corner of his mouth and ran about three or four centimeters across his cheek.
“They’re very important people in industry and those things,” my mother added dismissively. “That kind of person is always in the terrorists’ sights. They have a lot of money.”
“…I’m listening, Mom,” I scolded her, because I didn’t like her assessment.
If she only knew…
Alexander’s interview lasted a while longer. I had no idea what they were talking about. I couldn’t stop looking at the scar at the side of his mouth, stunned. It was true that it looked quite bad, but it suited him; it went with the rest of the scars on his body, proof that he had fought with everything he had not only to save his life, but his children’s, his friends’, and mine. It did not
