One day, my uncle invited me to the pool. When we arrived, he leaned into my ear and whispered, “After the pool, come to my room.” When I opened the door that night, what I saw inside paralyzed me…
I was already twenty-seven years old, but that night was the first time I truly felt fear of my uncle.
His name was Richard. He was my father’s older brother, and from childhood, he was someone our entire family trusted.
When I was little, he would bring me birthday presents, watch my school performances and always say:
If you need anything, call me.
After my father’s death, these words became even more important to me.
But over the past year, Richard has changed.
He started asking me strange questions.
“Have you kept anything old from your mother?”
TO:
“Have you ever wondered why your father never wanted to talk about his youth?” I usually laughed and changed the subject.
Until that Saturday.
Richard called me this morning.
“Emily, are you free today?”
“I think so.”
“Come with me. I booked a place outside the city. There’s a pool there. We can relax for a while.”
I hesitated.
