"Of course I do," He says softly. "She's my little girl. I'm sure your Tía feels the same about you."

He knew, of course, all too well that being related didn't always mean things worked out. He's seen enough here, remembers his time as a foster kid, and all things in between. But that wasn't family. Not really.

"But I don't know. I'm still her walk out Papá. She might not even remember me at all. I hope she misses me... but I also hope she doesn't hurt." It's hard to find a middle ground with all of that. Possible, but hard. Still, he keeps his smile up, even if aching and subdued now. Quietly, but a little amused, he asks, "Are you stalling, mijo?"