I skip down the passage and around the corner, opening the kitchen door. I walk around the opposite side of the house leading to Papa’s office. Normally, I went through the lounge and behind the staircase, but I have been trying to avoid that side since it had a picture of Ren and I.
I knock on my father’s door. The white door doesn’t hint at what you’d find inside. No clue at all.
Sometimes doors could be ignorant too.
I shake my head at my stupid silent rambling of wayward thoughts.
“Come in.” I look at my bare feet, red and blue beach towel wrapped around my body and long blonde hair wet around my shoulders.
Puffing my chest, I straighten my back as I put my hand on the gold handle and twist.
My father’s head lifts from his laptop. His desk is full of paper work. A frame of his children and the one of my mothers sit on the far-left corner. A snow globe Guilia got for his birthday and a few other trinkets make up the top right side. A family man.