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chapter 109

Martina's pov

*Days and days passed by, nothing has really changed. We walked out from time to time, had fun. He isn't so sad about his mother anymore.*

Jorge's pov

*Days and days passed by, I started thinking less about my mother but another problem took the first place. Stephie. I don't want to marry her, I don't want to hurt my father. I started seeing her more often. She always caomes up with a reason. First time it was the decoration, then food and drinks to the wedding. And if I said no, she comes to my house. At least, I took the opportunity and tried to get some informations about Martina. But she didn't answer to any of it. Where did she get the nickname Tini? I can't stop thinking about that and other, even when I'm at work.*

M: Hey. Jorge

J: Uh... what?

M: You didn't listen? I was talking

J: I'm sorry, can you repeat that?

M: What are you thinking about? You seem so distracted

J: No, that's not important.

M: Come on, I want to know why I spent so much time talking for nothing

J: Okay. I was thinking about you

M: Me?

*Her cheeks turned red and she tried to cover it with her hands. That made her cuter than she was.*

J: Do you remember something from... your past?

M: Oh

*Her smile turned to a serious face and she looked down.*

J: You don't have to tell me but I did some research and-

M: That's alright, I'd like to know something about myself too.

J: The past can't be forgotten forever. So-

M: I want to remember now, it's better than remembering later. Tell me what did you read about me?

J: Are you sure you want to talk about it?

M: Absolutely. Tell me everything.

J: Almost seven years ago, a fourteen years old girl had been found by the police in a house. She was alone, the only thing she had was a small doll.

M: Mariana.

J: After so many tries of the doctors to know anything about her, she refused to comunicate or touch anyone. Every human being frightened her.

*Her eyes started filling with tears but she didn't make a sound. Just took my hand and kept listening*

J: After four years of unsuccessful therapy, they sent her to The Lost.

M: I don't have the... happiest lifestory, right?

*She laughed through the tears.*

M: ... yeah. I do remember something.

*She said with a pretended confident voice.*

M: Every. Damn minute you've just talked about.