As we race away in the car, a storm of anger and fear swells inside me. How could she be so reckless? How could she risk everything like that?
When the empty road stretches before us, I slam on the brakes, my heart pounding in my chest. I throw the...
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The cabin was eerily quiet as Gabriel stepped out, leaving me alone with my thoughts. The uneasy feeling from earlier hadn't left me, lingering in the back of my mind like a shadow. I couldn’t stop thinking about the photoframe I had found earlier under the table. Something about it had gnawed at me since the moment I saw it.
Now, with Gabriel gone, I decided I had to find it again. My heart raced as I made my way to the painting room. The thought of what I might uncover sent chills down my spine, but I needed answers. If Gabriel was hiding something from me, I couldn’t live in the dark any longer.
The door to the room creaked slightly as I pushed it open. The scent of paint and dust filled the air, the remnants of Gabriel’s latest artwork scattered around the space. I scanned the room, my eyes landing on the spot where I had seen the frame earlier. It was still there, tucked under the table, half-hidden beneath some old canvases.
I bent down, my fingers brushing against the cold, dusty frame. It hadn’t moved since I last saw it. Carefully, I pulled it out and blew on it, the dust swirling in the air before settling on the floor. My heart skipped a beat as I turned the frame over, revealing the photograph inside.
I gasped, my breath catching in my throat.
It was me. A picture of me—no, of my dad and me. I couldn’t believe my eyes. The image was of my younger self, no more than four years old, sitting on my father’s lap, his arms wrapped protectively around me as we smiled at the camera. The edges of the photo were worn, as if it had been handled often, looked at repeatedly. But how? How did Gabriel have this?
Tears welled up in my eyes as I stared at the photo, memories flooding back—memories of my father, of happier times before everything went dark. My hands trembled as I clutched the frame, my mind racing. Why did Gabriel have this?
I stood up, my legs shaking beneath me. The questions swirled in my mind, and I needed more answers. I couldn’t stop now. I had to find out everything. I began searching through the room, my hands opening cupboards, pulling out canvases, digging through piles of paintings.
And then I found them.
More photographs. Some were from my university days, others from my part-time job, and even from my first day at work. Pictures of me at moments when I had been completely unaware. Each one felt like a dagger to my heart, a betrayal so deep I didn’t know if I could ever recover. I couldn’t understand how he had these. Gabriel, the man I had come to love and trust, had been watching me all along.
The man I thought I knew—the man I thought loved me—was hiding more than I ever imagined.
I collapsed onto the floor, the photographs slipping from my fingers as tears streamed down my face. The pain in my chest felt unbearable, like I was being crushed from the inside. I wrapped my arms around myself, trying to hold in the sobs that threatened to spill over.
How could he do this? How could he keep this from me?
For what felt like an eternity, I sat there, crying in agony. The weight of everything, of the lies, the deceit, and the love I thought I had known, bore down on me until I could barely breathe. But I couldn’t stay like this. I had to confront him. I had to know the truth.
Wiping my tears, I gathered the photos and the frame, my hands trembling as I made my way to the living room. My body felt heavy, like I was moving through quicksand, but I had to face him. I laid the photos on the table, spreading them out for him to see.
And then I waited.
The minutes felt like hours as I stood there, staring at the images, my mind still reeling. When I heard the sound of Gabriel’s car pulling up outside, my heart sped up. The door creaked open, and I heard his footsteps behind me. I didn’t turn around.
“Tuono?” Gabriel’s voice was soft, laced with concern. “What’s wrong?”
I didn’t move, didn’t say anything. My eyes stayed fixed on the photos, the truth of his lies laid bare in front of me.
“Tuono,” he said again, this time more urgently. I could feel him moving closer, could sense his worry growing. “What’s going on?”
Finally, I turned around, and I could see the exact moment his gaze landed on the photographs. His expression shifted from confusion to realization, his eyes widening slightly as he understood what I had found.
“Gabriel,” I said, my voice trembling but filled with determination. “What is this? How… how did you have these?”
His jaw tightened, and I saw the conflict in his eyes, the war he was fighting inside. He opened his mouth to respond, but before he could, the door behind us flew open with a sudden force.
Gabriel reacted instantly, his body moving in front of mine in a protective stance. I gasped, my heart racing as my eyes darted to the door.
Antonio stumbled inside, collapsing near the doorway, his body bloodied and weak. He groaned, trying to hold himself up, but the sight of him was enough to send a wave of panic through me.
Gabriel’s breath hitched. “Gio…” he whispered, his voice thick with shock and something darker—fear.
But before I could process what was happening, my eyes shifted to the figure standing in the doorway. A man with grey hair and a neatly trimmed beard, his eyes piercing and familiar. Too familiar.
My blood ran cold as he smiled at me, a smile that sent chills down my spine.
I stared at him, my mind struggling to comprehend what I was seeing. The man in front of me… it was impossible. It couldn’t be.
But it was.
My lips trembled as I whispered the word I thought I’d never say again.
“Dad?”
And just like that, the ground beneath me shifted, the world I thought I knew crumbling into something unrecognizable.
