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.
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“Uncle Richard?”
No answer.
I pushed the door open slightly.
And the moment I stepped inside, I stopped.
My heart started pounding.
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The entire bed was covered with photographs.
Dozens of them.
Maybe more than a hundred.
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And I was in almost every single one.
Me at three years old.
Me in my school uniform.
Me at thirteen.
Me at my university graduation.
There were even photographs I had never seen before in my life.
A large picture of my mother hung on the wall.
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Old letters, documents, and sealed envelopes were scattered across the table.
Beside the bed stood an open suitcase.
I took one step backward.
“What is this…?”
At that moment, the door moved behind me.
I turned around.
Richard was standing there.
“Don’t be afraid.”
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“Don’t be afraid? You filled an entire hotel room with pictures of me. What is going on?”
He looked as if he wanted to speak, but for a few seconds, no words came out.
Then he picked up an old brown envelope from the table.
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“Your father made me promise that I wouldn’t give this to you until you turned twenty-seven.”
I just 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.”
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