A homecoming shrouded in mystery
Matteo picked me up at the clinic and drove me home. He remained unusually silent during the entire car ride. He held the steering wheel firmly with one hand while the other continually reached for mine, squeezing it with an almost protective gentleness.
“Is everything okay, Matteo?” I asked, breaking the long silence as I watched the road out the window. “You seem very tense.”
“It’s just the tiredness accumulated during these days of waiting, don’t worry,” he replied with a half-smile that didn’t entirely convince me.
I crossed the threshold of our apartment longing to lie down on the couch, but a few steps down the hallway were enough to make me realize something was strange. The room felt different, almost bare.
The large mirror with its gilded wooden frame that had always hung above the living room fireplace was completely gone. The oval mirror in the entryway was also gone.
Curious and confused, I rushed to the powder room. The mirrored door of the wall cabinet had been carefully removed. In our bedroom, the full-length mirror I used every morning to get dressed had been removed. Even the clear glass coffee table in the center of the living room had been completely covered with a heavy white sheet.
“Matteo… what’s going on here?” I whispered, turning toward him, my heart starting to race.
He remained standing on the threshold of the front door, his expression unusually pale and drawn.
“I took them all off, Elena,” he admitted softly.
—Why did you remove all the mirrors in the house?
—Why shouldn’t you look at yourself now.
Beyond the Looking Glass: The Secret Behind a Lifelong Insecurity and Elena’s Rebirth.
I tried to defuse the situation with a nervous laugh.
—Dr. Moretti clearly explained to me that I would be swollen and bruised for some time. Don’t worry, I know what to expect.
“It’s not the swelling from the surgery, Elena,” her voice trembled slightly as she said the words.
I took two steps forward toward him, feeling a strange apprehension growing inside me.
—So what is this about? What are you hiding from me?
Matteo closed his eyes for a few moments, taking a long sigh.
—During surgery, while analyzing the cartilage, Dr. Moretti discovered a very peculiar clinical detail…
Beyond the Looking Glass: Those Three Shots That Changed Everything
Before Matteo could finish his sentence, three loud, well-timed knocks suddenly resounded on the wooden front door.
KNOCK. KNOCK, KNOCK.
A sharp, heavy sound that startled us both. Matteo opened his eyes again, and his gaze filled with immediate awareness. From his expression, I immediately knew he knew exactly who the person on the other side of the door was.
“Don’t go open the door, Elena. Please, stop,” he whispered, holding out his arm to stop me.
But curiosity and the accumulated tension were too much. I ignored his warning and walked briskly toward the entrance, grabbing the doorknob.
When I pushed open the door, I found myself facing an elegant woman in her sixties, well-dressed but with a face marked by an expression of deep remorse and anxiety. Beside her was a worn leather file folder.
It took a few seconds before I recognized her. It was Mrs. Beatrice, the mother of a former middle school classmate of mine, Simone, who had been one of the main instigators of my childhood bullying.
“Elena… I apologize for showing up here unannounced,” v solaythe woman said in a trembling voice, her hands clasped. “I need to talk to you. I only found out a few hours ago what happened, and I couldn’t remain silent any longer.”
“Beatrice, this isn’t the right time,” Matteo intervened, standing protectively beside me. “Elena just got back from the hospital and needs to rest.”
“No, Matteo, you need to know the truth now,” the woman replied, wiping away a furtive tear. “Elena deserves to know what happened years ago.”
