A couple of years ago, I posted a video of my son, Daniel, playing on a surfboard.
I got a lot of positive feedback from people.
And then, a few weeks later, I received a phone call.
Daniel was dead.
The phone call came from a woman in California, who wanted to know why he’d been missing.
The woman, who didn’t want to be identified, was asking for the name of the person who had shot and killed her son.
The young man was known to Daniel’s family, and was described as a quiet, gentle, shy guy.
I called the police, and Daniel’s parents were immediately notified.
It took a little while for the details to emerge, but it was clear that Daniel had been killed.
What happened to Daniel was not my fault.
I was never the person Daniel was with.
My son was an amazing kid.
But the police did not believe me, and so I was told Daniel’s body had been dumped in the San Francisco Bay.
And I was shocked.
The police knew nothing about what had happened to my son.
They thought my son was in the United States illegally.
They even took Daniel’s passport and took it back to their country.
My life was thrown into turmoil.
I lost Daniel’s mother and his father.
I had to make a difficult decision about how to spend the next two months.
I felt helpless.
I couldn’t understand why I would be the one to decide how to go forward with Daniel’s life.
The first thing I wanted to do was to get back to Daniel and talk to him about what happened.
But as time went on, the questions that were growing on me grew more and more complicated.
I kept trying to explain Daniel to the police and to Daniel.
Daniel would not listen.
But eventually, he came to me, asking if I had any information about his whereabouts.
It was as if he knew what I was going to say.
He said, “I’ll take you to the house of the owner of the house, and I’ll tell you what I know about his son.”
I thought he was joking.
But Daniel was serious.
He was trying to understand what had been happening to him.
He didn’t know what had taken place in my home, and he was desperate to understand the circumstances that led up to his son’s death.
He also asked me if he could be my father.
He told me I would like to be his father, because he wanted to be able to protect him.
And when I told him I didn’t have any relatives in the U.S., he said, I’m sorry, but I won’t do it.
When he learned of my decision, Daniel was devastated.
He asked, “Why?
Why would I want to take him away?”
And I said, Daniel would be better off dead.
When I left the house that night, I went to my office and looked up what happened to the family.
I thought I had the answer.
I found out that Daniel’s father, who had been arrested for the murder of Daniel, had been living in a small village in the southern Philippines.
I contacted the police.
I asked for the arrest warrant.
I showed them photos of Daniel and asked them to identify the man who killed him.
They didn’t believe me.
They said the police didn’t even have enough information to believe that they had a suspect.
I also told them that Daniel was my son and that I had been in the Philippines for about two years.
They weren’t sure what to make of this.
I told them I knew Daniel.
I even told them about Daniel’s previous job in a factory in the Philippine capital, Manila.
When the police arrived at my house that day, they were surprised to see Daniel there.
They took me to a house.
They told me Daniel was in a room, on a table, with a knife.
They put a pillow on his head and told him to lie down.
Daniel’s heart stopped.
I saw the look in his eyes.
They had been trying to get me to confess to killing Daniel.
But I couldn´t.
I could only say, “That’s my son.”
That was the last time I saw Daniel.
The next day, I drove home.
I hugged him and cried.
Daniel had lived a normal life, like everyone else in his family.
He had been a good kid.
He never had a problem.
He even loved his job.
But in a matter of days, his life was changed forever.
When Daniel was born, the family was shocked to learn that Daniel, who weighed just four pounds, was the son of a criminal.
I wanted the police to know about Daniel.
At first, I had no idea how they could possibly suspect Daniel was involved in the murder.
The only thing I knew was that Daniel seemed very happy.
He liked to play, he liked to be around people, and his family was very friendly.
They were happy, but they were not