“Once, when I was 27, my uncle asked me, ‘Are you a virgin?’ From that moment on, I began to be afraid of him. A few days later, when he took me to a hotel on the outskirts of the city, he leaned close to my ear by the pool and whispered, ‘After the pool, come up to my room…’”

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“Your father made me promise that I wouldn’t give this to you until you turned twenty-seven.”

I stared at him.

“My father?”

Richard nodded.

“That’s why I brought you here. Starting tomorrow, this  hotel is closing for renovations, and this room means a lot to me.”

He turned the  photograph of my mother over.

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On the back, there was a handwritten message.

“Room 214. The day it all began.”

I still didn’t understand.

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Richard sat down in a chair.

“Your parents met at this hotel.”

my mother, little notes from my school years, and even old postcards I had given her when I was a child.

 

He had asked Richard to keep everything safe.

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But the biggest surprise was still inside the  suitcase.

Documents.

Years earlier, my father had opened a small savings account in my name and deposited money into it every month.