Their names were Elian and Matteo.
From the time they were five years old until they turned eight, they spent nearly every afternoon together. They raced through narrow alleys, played hide-and-seek behind crumbling walls, and chased dragonflies in the tall grass beyond the last row of homes.
Elian was the son of a mechanic who worked long hours in a small roadside garage. Matteo lived with relatives while his mother worked abroad, sending money home whenever she could.But to the boys, none of that mattered.
To anyone watching them grow up, they didn’t look like ordinary friends.
They looked like brothers.
Then, one afternoon, everything changed.
Matteo’s mother returned with news that neither boy was ready to hear.
After years of working overseas, she had finally arranged for Matteo to live with her in another country.The day he left, the two boys stood in the middle of the street where they had spent countless afternoons playing.
They hugged each other tightly, both crying openly.
“I’ll come back, bro,” Matteo promised through tears.
