Enrico grew up alone in a shadowy house at the edge of a vast field, with only his father for company. His dad rarely spoke of the past, and whenever Enrico asked about his mother or siblings, silence filled the space. Their home, large and lonely...
A sudden thought struck Enrico. He stood up, his mind racing with the need for answers.After cleaning the table, he spotted a sticky note on the fridge, scribbled by his father in familiar handwriting:
"Please, please don't forget the chores for today."
Enrico sighed. Again? Dad probably forgot to throw this one away... But as he stared at the note,
something else was bubbling inside him. I want to know everything... and why do I live like this?
He went upstairs, his mind set. As he brushed his teeth in the bathroom next to his father's room, he noticed something strange—the door to his father's room was slightly ajar.
Dad always kept his door locked. Why is it open now?Enrico finished brushing quickly, wiping his hands as he moved toward the door. His heart pounded in his chest as he stepped cautiously inside, making sure there were no cameras or anything else that might catch him. He flicked on the soft, yellow lights and stepped further into the room.
The space was eerily calm, with nothing out of place, but Enrico felt the weight of the unknown pressing on him. His eyes fell on the bed. He sat down cautiously, then lay back on the pillow. He knew he wasn't supposed to be there, but the urge to uncover something—anything—was too strong. His hand slid under the pillow, and he felt something cold and hard. He pulled it out—a picture frame. Enrico stared at the photo in shock.
It was of a woman. A beautiful woman. For a moment, Enrico felt an odd pull toward her, as though he had fallen in love with her, though he didn't know who she was. He studied her image for what felt like a long time, his mind spinning.
Curious, Enrico flipped the pillow over, searching for more. By the bedside, he noticed a dresser with a mirror, and what caught his attention were the strange items scattered across the surface—makeup materials, masks, and other unfamiliar objects. His grip on the photo tightened as he walked closer, the questions swirling in his head.
Why would Dad have all of this?
His mind raced with possibilities. Does a woman live here? Turning, he walked to the closet and pulled the door open. He searched through the clothes, his eyes falling on a pair of striking red boots at the bottom. They were large and eye-catching, clearly not his father's.
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Why would Dad have boots like these? Enrico thought, lifting them carefully from the closet floor. They were beautiful, but much too big for him.
He placed the boots back, closed the closet door, and returned to the dresser, standing there for several minutes. His mind buzzed with a thousand questions. The pieces didn't fit together. There were too many signs pointing to something he couldn't quite understand.
He had no answers yet, but the room had opened a door to more mysteries. And Enrico was determined to find out what lay behind them.
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