“Why?”
Richard looked around.
“I can’t explain it here.”
“What’s going on?”
He only repeated:
“At seven. Room 214.”
And he walked away.
Since then, I could no longer relax.
The worst thoughts started to go through my head.
Why did he bring me there?
Why a hotel?
Why couldn’t he just tell me what he wanted?
Twice I was about to grab my bag and leave.
But then I thought of my father.
Richard had never hurt me.
Maybe there was really something important that I needed to tell myself.
At 6:55 in the afternoon, I was in front of room 214.
I raised my hand to call, but then I noticed that the door was not completely closed.
“Uncle Richard?”
There was no response.
I pushed the door slightly.
And the moment I walked in, I stopped.
My heart began to beat strongly.
Read the continuation in the comments 👇!!️👇!!️
The whole bed was covered in photographs.
Dozens of them.
Maybe more than a hundred.
And in almost all of them I appeared.
Me at three years old.
Me in my school uniform.
Me at thirteen.
Me on the day of my college graduation.
There were even photographs I’ve never seen before.
A great photograph of my mother was hanging on the wall.
On the table were old cards, documents and closed envelopes.
And by the bed was an open suitcase.
I took a step back.
“What is all this…?”
At that moment, the door moved behind me.
I turned around.
Richard was there.
“Do not be afraid.”
“Don’t be afraid? You filled a whole room with pictures of me. What is happening?”
He seemed to want to talk, but for a few seconds he couldn’t say anything.
Then he took an old brown envelope from the table.
“Your father made me promise that I wouldn’t give you this until you turned twenty-seven.”
I stared at it.
“My father?”
Richard nodded.
“That’s why I brought you here. Tomorrow this hotel will close for renovations. And this room means something very important to me.”
He turned the photo my mother’s.
On the back was a handwritten message.
Room 214. The day it all started.
I still didn’t understand anything.
Richard sat in a chair.
“Your parents met at this hotel.”
I didn’t say anything.
“But that’s not the whole history.”
