Dinner was served around seven o’clock. The wait make Carlo uneasy, since he just wanted to rush outside home to talk to the girl. After all that time to think and a long internal debate, he decided the first thing to do should be talk to the girl directly. He thought about talking to his or her parents, even to call a ‘suicide hotline’ to ask for suggestions on how help the girl abandon the idea of taking her own life. He also searched around in the web about what can one possibly do to stop someone that was thinking about suicide. He read as much as he could, since the subject was new to him. He memorized some tips, what to do and what to avoid in order to get the attention and confidence of the person. When he began eating, he knew what to do. “Are you feeling good, kid? You’re strangely silent tonight!”, noted Carlo’s father, who was until then talking to his wife about the fun facts of the day.

- Oh, you know, there is this tough test tomorrow, so I’m trying to review what I studied earlier. I’m kinda worry about it.

- You shouldn’t play with your friends, then! – replied the woman a little indignant.

- I know I know! But I couldn’t say no… to relieve some stress! But, hey, I’ll manage to pass it, somehow, you know it! – was the positive answer of the boy.

- Well, you better do it, if you want to keep your allowance this month! – warned the man to his son.

“Argh, what a pain! I hate to lie to them but can’t be helped!” After dinner, Carlo went stright to his room, closed the door and prepared to go outside. He putted under the blankets some clothes to fake his sleeping body. He even had a blonde wig to put on the pillow for such occasions. In fact, this was a trick he learnt in some comic, and he used it a couple of times in order to escape home to attend a concert when his parents forbidden him to go. Until now, it worked, apparently. He went outside from the window and, standing at the edge of the window frame, he closed it. His rom was located at the third floor and, next to his window, there was a tall tree, one of his branches big and long enough to allow him to jump over it. Carlo jumped to the branch, climbed down quickly from the tree and hurried to arrive to the mysterious girl’s house. It was some time after the eight o’clock when he was again in front of the girl’s house.

Carlo crossed the front door looking inside, but he wasn’t able to see a thing. It was dark outside, and all lights were also turned off. Using his cellphone as a torch, the boy closed the door behind him and slowly walked through the entrance. Deciding that would be better having more light, he searched for a switch. He found it almost immediately and turned on the lights. He then found before him a wide living room filled with expensive objects: heavy wooden and refined dining table, many vases of a certain high value filled with wonderful flower arrangements, photographs on tables and many paintings on the walls. “So, she is from a rich family… I heard Japanese people are wealthier than must Europeans… certainly better than us Italians!”, he thought before such display of wealth. He noted next to a huge sofa a table with some stuff on it. He investigated the table, and found the leftovers of a dinner for one person. At this point, he was almost certain there was no body at home at the moment, so he started to look around a little more quickly. “They could return at any moment, and I don’t want to give them the idea of being some kind of thief!”

Looking in the kitchen, everything seemed normal. The bathroom under the stairs was clean and regular. He arrived to the backside of the house, where there was the garden, and after a quick look, he found nothing odd. Returning to the living room, this time his attention fell on the little table near to the kitchen entry, where a phone and some photos stood. Carlo took one of the photos: in it was pictured an Italian man and an oriental woman hugging, a bright smile on their faces, a beautiful park on a sunny spring day. “Her… parents? No, she is clearly one hundred percent Japanese, so… he must be her stepfather. The woman most be her mother, they kind of look alike”. After looking at the other frames on the table, Carlo noticed something odd. Then, he looked around the entire floor searching for something, and he finally concluded his guess was right: there was nothing there that confirmed the mysterious girl lived there as well. Nor a single photo of her was found. “Uhm… she entered here nonetheless, even if this is not her house. There must be something… Oh, there it is!” Inspecting again the sofa, Carlo found the bag and the sweatshirt the girl had on her before. “She must be here, then. Guess is time to go to the second floor…” Slowly, he climbed the stairs to the next floor, trying his best to not make a lot of noise. Ba bump. Ba bump. Ba bump. His heartbeat was increasing, his legs started to tremble. At his left, he found a large corridor, while at his right, more stairs leading to the third and last floor. He moved through the corridor and slowly opened the doors: a bathroom, a closet, a room… Thanks to the light coming from outside, he was able to see some details on the dark room: a library filled with many kinds of books, a guitar posing besides a table with a mirror, posters adorning the walls to the sides, a large and comfortable-looking bed, in which a dark silhouette was resting on it. It was her. Carlo hasted for the switch, turning on the lights, and confirmed that it was the girl he was searching for the one lying on the bed. “Impossible… is she…” The girl was facing the ceiling, her face as pale as a corpse’s, one hand over her belly, the other hanging out the bed. “DAMMIT!”, he shouted, falling to his knees and hitting hard the floor. tears started running over his face. “If I only have had the courage to stop her… if I haven’t lost my time with my mother… No, the guilt is all mine. I had to talk to her directly, instead of hesitating all the day while following her. If she is dead, I’m… uh?” Looking at the floor, with his gaze obstructed by the tears, he noticed something near the bed lying there. Carlo reached the object with his hand and, when he grasped it, he knew instantly it was the little bottle. “She drank the bottle’s content. Which means… ugh!” He couldn’t finish his thoughts when a strong headache hit him. He felt his body becoming heavier and heavier, until he couldn’t stand anymore. He tried with all his might to not lose consciousness, but in the end, his efforts were useless. Carlo fell next to the bed, his head leaning on the bed and his right hand, which tried to reach the mysterious girl, placed over her hand.

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