Luciano’s POV
"Sir, breakfast is served," said the woman who peeked into my office.
"I won't come down, please bring my breakfast up," I replied.
I have tried to stay out of it. I feel uncomfortable because many things within me were stirred up. Over time, I learned to channel my emotions; nowadays, I prefer to bury the past and move on, as if my brain erased a part of my life as a defense mechanism to avoid falling into a deep depression. But I couldn't resist the desire to see a photograph that made me feel alive in my chest, that moment that caused so much pain in me.
The kitchen assistant brought my breakfast upstairs and organized the space for me to eat.
"Sir, this arrived for you a few minutes ago," she said.
The woman reached into her apron pocket and pulled out an envelope.
