Father Antonio was a man who had lived for thirty-five years, and in those years, he had tried to acquire as much information he could when it came to his own kind, "You do understand that by saying your memory was wiped not completely but by bits and pieces that there are chances that it might be your mother's doing."
Penny nodded her head. It wasn't that it had never come across her mind. The thought kept revolving until she would try bringing up one reason after another of why her memory was wiped or when it could have been wiped.
"Could you tell me when you found out about this. The missing pieces of memory I mean," asked Father Antonio, his eyes set on the girl who had both her hands resting on the table, holding them together.
