CHAPTER 1
PLUNGE INTO THE DARKNESS, Part 8

 “Ah!?”

…

A comfortable bed… Oh, wait, a hospital bed? Right… I remember every detail of the ordeal, even what I did to that man.

I’m not quite sure how I opened a… whatever it was, to get rid of him, but I know for certain that I was the one who created it.

A doctor walks into the room, making sure to ask permission first. Even though he speaks in English, I’m able to understand what he’s trying to tell me. My brother has a hematoma on his face, my mother’s vocal cords are swollen, and my father has minor sprains in his neck and knee. They’ll all be fine, though.

As for me, only some superficial injuries. Compared to the rest of my family, it looks like I fared better. Yet, I distinctly remember much more serious injuries. I even had a broken rib. Now, however, I feel perfectly fine.

I don’t want to bother explaining it to the doctor and look like a crazy person, so I just thank him.

I’m not alone in the room.

There’s someone else under the covers, and unless they’re in a deep sleep, they must not be in the mood for conversation. I haven’t even met them yet, and we already have something in common. Especially today.

My family is in a different room. My mother had pushed for them to move me, even though she shouldn’t be talking in her condition. As usual, she doesn’t want me to be left alone, but I’ve already told the doctor to ignore her. One night apart won’t hurt me.

I’m enjoying my dinner now: rice with curry and artichokes, accompanied by a small cup of yogurt and a fruit salad. Finally, something good today.

I don’t know what to do. Surprisingly, I have no desire to play around on my phone, so I use this opportunity to read the third Sherlock Holmes book. I’m actually happy about the room mix-up. It seems like I shouldn’t even be here, which is why I was separated from my family. But it doesn’t matter anyway. We’ll be discharged tomorrow and ready to return to Italy, albeit a bit battered.

“You must really like that book.”

My attention is drawn away by the arrival of a stranger. He turns on a lamp on the small table in the corner of the room, revealing his identity.

I recognize him. The individual sitting in the armchair at the far end of the room is the young man I bumped into this afternoon.

“Don’t worry. There’s no need to be afraid of me. I just want to talk.”

“What are you doing here? What could you possibly want with me?” I might sound aggressive, but after today, I have every reason to be. I slowly reach for the remote to call security.

“I disabled that remote before they even brought you here. It took me a lot of effort to crack the system and get you alone in this room.” If he was really the one to orchestrate all of this, he must have overlooked one detail. “You could scream, and I wouldn’t blame you if you did. But then you wouldn’t have the chance to get answers to the questions that are surely buzzing around in your head.”

I look around. The curtains have already been drawn, preventing anyone from seeing us. He was so quiet that I didn’t even notice that he had moved them until now. His stealth doesn’t exactly inspire trust, but I do want answers.

“All right, talk. But tell me, you clearly don’t want anyone to know you’re here…”

“How perceptive of you,” he admits with an irritatingly sarcastic tone.

“Didn’t you consider that my roommate might wake up at any moment?” I ask, pointing at him.

“Are you talking about the old man who died of a heart attack?”

…