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"I've been thinking a lot about this tower of ours lately," said Papa. "About you working up there; me working down here. You're doing illustrations for the long-story. I'm writing the long-story for you, you know. You know, don't you?" 

"I know, Papa." 

"We work well together, right partner? We have always worked well together." 

"Yes, partner." I said.

He took a few steps around the room, stopped for a moment at the window. Then he turned to look at me: "And since we have worked and will still work well together I thought we should..." He rocked on his legs and smiled with the corner of his mouth.

He's going to tell me something important, I thought. When he turns around a topic and smiles like this it means that he is preparing to face something important. Although there were chairs, I sat on the floor, waiting.

"Don't you think it's pretty funny that for so many years I've been working hard to be a good writer and all the critics have to say about me is how much I drink?" 

"I wouldn't say they just write that."

"The most severe critic I have met is you, partner. Not for the books, for my character. You never miss a chance to shoot. And you almost always hit the mark, General Marti." 

"Oh Papa, but you know..."

"I know we have decided to be honest with each other. Honest also means strict. I must admit I find it hard to be strict with you, Adriana. But honest, yes, I always will be." He took a few steps up and down the room again, back next to me, crossing his arms behind his back. "The White Tower. Here, with honesty and self-discipline we work, independent yet united. For better and for worse, partner. I thought about setting up a company, The White Tower Incorporation. What do you think?"