“My uncle once asked me, ‘Are you a virgin?’ when I was already 27 years old. From that moment, I started to be afraid of him. And a few days later, when he took me to a hotel outside the city, he leaned close to my ear by the pool and whispered, ‘After the pool, come up to my room…’”

“No.”

 

He answered too quickly.

 

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A few minutes later, he moved closer to me.

 

So close that I instinctively turned toward him.

 

Then, in a low voice, he said:

 

“After the pool, come up to my room.”

 

I froze.

 

“Why?”

 

Richard glanced around.

 

“I can’t explain it here.”

 

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“What is going on?”

 

He only repeated:

 

“Seven o’clock. Room 214.”

 

Then he walked away.

 

From that moment on, I couldn’t relax.

 

The worst thoughts started running through my head.

 

Why had he brought me here?

 

Why a hotel?

 

Why couldn’t he simply tell me what he wanted?

 

Twice, I almost grabbed my bag and left.

 

But then I thought about my father.

 

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Richard had never hurt me.

 

Maybe there really was something important he needed to tell me.

 

At 6:55 that evening, I was already standing in front of Room 214.

 

I raised my hand to knock, but then I noticed that the door wasn’t completely closed.