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?
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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.
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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