We were introduced as Paulo's friends from the university.
At least… that was the safest explanation.
And honestly, it wasn't even completely a lie anymore.
By the time we were ushered properly inside the living room, the awkwardness from earlier had lessened a little.
Paulo's family welcomed us warmly despite clearly not recognizing any of us. Maybe because we were students too. Maybe because hearing that their son still had people remembering him mattered more than questioning details.
His mother sat across from us with tired but kind eyes while his father remained unusually quiet beside her. The resemblance between him and Paulo was obvious now that I could finally compare them properly.
The nose.
The eyes.
Even the way they sat silently thinking before speaking.
Paulo stood behind the couch the entire time.
Close to them.
Watching them.
Like he was afraid they'd disappear if he looked away.
His eldest sister was the one mostly talking to us while another older brother prepared coffee and snacks from the dining area.
"He was the youngest," his sister explained softly while smiling faintly toward one of Paulo's pictures nearby. "Mama gave birth to him late already. She was forty-five back then."
Her voice carried affection.
But also guilt.
The kind families unknowingly carry when talking about someone they couldn't protect enough.
"That's why Paulo grew up sickly," his mother added quietly. "Since he was little, he was always in and out of clinics."
Paulo lowered his head slightly at that.
I glanced toward him and noticed Alicia holding his hand now.
No teasing.
No playful questions.
She was just there quietly beside him.
"We tried our best," his father finally spoke, voice rougher than before. "But maintenance medicines are expensive. Especially for long-term illness."
The room fell quieter after that.
No one interrupted.
No one knew how to.
"Sometimes," his mother continued while forcing out a weak laugh, "if there was extra money after bills… that's the only time we could buy everything his doctors prescribed."
Sarah visibly looked down after hearing that.
Cynthia's hands tightened lightly on her lap.
And beside me, Gino had gone unusually still.
Then came the part all of us already expected but still didn't feel prepared to hear out loud.
"When he was diagnosed with leukemia…" Paulo's sister paused briefly. "Everything became harder after that."
I saw Paulo close his eyes.
Not dramatically.
Just tiredly.
Like he already knew this story too well.
His father rubbed his palms together slowly before speaking again.
"He already knew his time was limited," he admitted quietly. "But he never stopped studying."
That one hit harder than expected.
Because I remembered Paulo inside the library.
Still reading.
Still solving equations.
Still teaching us like deadlines still mattered to him.
"He wanted to graduate so badly," his mother whispered with trembling lips. "Even when his body was already weak… he still attended classes whenever he could."
Her eyes turned toward one of the framed certificates hanging near the wall.
"He graduated valedictorian during senior high school," she said, and this time there was unmistakable pride in her voice. "That's how he entered Santa Carla University. Through scholarship."
Paulo looked completely frozen behind them now.
Like hearing all of this directly from his parents affected him more than dying ever did.
"We couldn't afford college," his older brother admitted honestly while setting down coffee on the table. "But Paulo worked hard for it himself."
"He said he'd finish engineering," his sister added softly. "Then he'd build Mama a bigger house."
That was the first moment Cynthia broke.
She covered her mouth quickly as tears gathered in her eyes.
Not loud crying.
Just quiet tears she clearly wasn't expecting herself.
And somehow, seeing her cry made Sarah tear up too.
Sarah quickly looked away while wiping beneath her eyes.
Meanwhile, Paulo…
Paulo moved behind his parents and slowly wrapped his arms around both of them from behind.
His mother shivered slightly.
Just slightly.
Like she unconsciously felt something.
"I'm sorry," Paulo whispered weakly. "I really tried…"
That nearly got me too.
Beside me, Gino rubbed his face roughly before muttering under his breath, "Damn…"
I leaned back against the couch and stared upward for a second trying to keep myself together.
Because the entire room was already emotional enough.
Paulo's mother was crying quietly now while his sister held her shoulder.
His father kept nodding silently while forcing himself not to break apart completely.
And in the middle of all that…
Paulo was still hugging them from behind despite knowing they couldn't feel him properly.
Or maybe they could.
Just a little.
Because his mother suddenly reached toward her shoulder absentmindedly and smiled through tears.
"It's strange," she whispered softly. "For some reason… today feels lighter than last year."
Paulo froze again after hearing that.
Then slowly lowered his head onto his mother's shoulder.
And this time…
He cried too.