Chapter 4

"Your father seems strong and independent, but to live he needs a guide, a companion. Stay close to him; perhaps love will truly open his eyes. I don't want you to be alone. Promise me, Elara."

I'd have loved to chew those words and spit them out with detachment.

Promises are made of words, and words are only important if we're the ones who give them value.

My mother's words have marked me deeply, and now I feel anchored to a person I no longer respect, a place that makes me feel invisible and at the same time drags me to the bottom of the ocean.

How can you feel suffocated in such a spacious place?

I'm grateful to have the gift of curiosity, because it's literally the only thing that keeps me alive and gets me out of the monotony.

All of Celeste's explanations have vanished somewhere in my brain, because now I don't remember the order of the rooms at all, but I still decide to take a walk around to better memorize the corners of this little paradise.

Perhaps it's wrong of me, and I know you should normally knock, but I've decided that's not the case. I'm starting to open almost all the doors casually and look inside the rooms. That way I'll know which ones I won't have to go back into.

The first room is very bright, but everything here seems spotless. The bedspread doesn't even have a wrinkle, so I know for sure that nobody sleeps here. Perhaps it's the guest room?

I keep going and open the second door. It's the bathroom, and it's as big as our living room used to be in the old house. There's a huge built-in bathtub surrounded by black tiles, a glass shower enclosure, a double sink, and an enormous mirror that covers almost half the wall.

On the windowsill there's a transparent vase with yellow tulips.

I turn on the light and my jaw drops. The ceiling looks like a starry sky; it's dotted with dozens of tiny, bright points.

I imagine myself in the bathtub, my body covered in strands of foam, a book in my hands, a scented candle to sweeten the evening, and a small artificial sky above my head. It's such an intimate and comforting space that it makes me forget, for a moment, the chaos that surrounds me.

I look at the vast array of body care products and gulp. Until two years ago, I still washed my face with hand soap, then I discovered that, in reality, every time you do that, a dermatologist probably dies somewhere in the world. It's a shame, though, that I never wanted to sell a kidney so I could afford quality skincare products without risking a face full of pimples. Now I understand why Celeste looks like she stepped out of a Vanity Fair magazine.

"What's wrong, Elara?"Celeste's voice pulls me out of my thoughts.

"Nothing."I reply, turning to face her.

"Do you like the bath?"she asks with a smile.

"Yes, it's beautiful."I reply, feeling a pang of discomfort.

"Would you like me to run a hot bath for you?"she asks with a smile.

"No, thank you."I reply, a lump forming in my throat.

"Why not?"he asks, frowning.

"I'm not used to this kind of luxury,"I reply, tears welling in my eyes.

"Don't worry, Elara,"Celeste says, coming closer to me."You'll get used to it."

"I don't think so,"I reply, a lump forming in my throat.

"Why not?"he asks, looking worried.

"Because I don't belong in this world,"I reply, feeling tears fall down my cheeks.

Elara moved through the house like a ghost, a specter in a world that wasn't hers. Each room was a mirror of the perfect life her father now shared with Celeste, a life that seemed as alien to her as an unknown language.

She had arrived at the house with a suitcase full of clothes, a broken heart, and a mind full of unanswered questions. Her mother's death, the sudden move, the new family forming around her... It was all too much to process.

As she entered the blue room, which she suspected was Celeste's son Ethan's, a chill ran down her spine. It was as if the house itself were warning her that she was entering forbidden territory.

The trophy on the shelf, a small symbol of sporting achievements, confirmed his suspicion. This was the space of a young man who wasn't exactly thrilled about the arrival of an unexpected"stepsister."

A closed door to her right piqued her curiosity. What could be inside that was so important? A personal shrine? A family treasure? Intrigue compelled her to approach, but before she could touch the doorknob, an imposing figure stepped in her path.

Celeste's son, Ethan, stood before her like a giant. His broad shoulders, covered by a green Green Bay Packers t-shirt, and his cold gaze froze her instantly. It was a stark contrast to the image she had conjured: a thin boy with glasses and an air of shyness.

Elara felt her heart race. She had been foolish to think she could fit in seamlessly with this new family.

"Hello,"he said, raising a hand in a hesitant gesture of greeting.

Ethan looked at her with an expression she couldn't decipher. It was a mixture of surprise, disgust, and a hint of contempt that sent a shiver down her spine.

"Before you say anything else, I know it must be difficult having strangers in the house, I understand, but apparently things between my father and your mother are quite serious and we're forced to accept it, so to avoid unnecessary arguments between us, try to stay away from me and I'll stay away from you,"he said, forcing a smile that hurt his lips.

Ethan stared at her with an intensity that made her feel uncomfortable.

"I was expecting to meet my future stepsister in a completely different way. My mother mentioned something, but I didn't pay any attention,"he said, his voice dry and sharp. His hand extended toward her, almost challengingly."I'm Ethan, and I imagine you already know that the world doesn't revolve around an anonymous nobody like yourself. Now relax and have a dip in the pool, or whatever. Don't get in my way anymore."

Elara felt a knot in her stomach. Ethan wasn't playing around. His tone was threatening, his gaze icy.

With an effort, he forced himself to shake her hand, fighting the feeling that she was tearing a piece of his soul away.

"I'm Elara. I didn't mean to be rude, but I'm concerned about my space,"she said, trying to remain calm.

Ethan looked at her with a raised eyebrow, as if he were analyzing every word that came out of her lips.

Elara felt trapped in a chess game where the pieces moved with a logic she didn't understand. The blue house, which had once seemed like a refuge, now became a labyrinth of confusing emotions.

Elara stared at Ethan's closed door, her future stepbrother's words echoing in her ears."It's obvious you've relationship problems. Fix them before it's too late."

What the hell? How dare he speak to her like that? Her heart pounded with fury, a mixture of indignation and confusion washing over her. Who was he to judge her?

She walked up the stairs with determined steps, ready to confront him, but before she could touch the door, it opened, as if Ethan had read her mind.

He stood before him, shirtless, his torso bare, his gaze defiant. It was a stark contrast to the image of a thin, shy boy that his mind had conjured up.

"Do you need anything?"Ethan asked, in a tone that left no room for doubt.

Elara felt trapped in a chess game where the pieces moved with a logic she didn't understand.

"Why doesn't that door open?"he asked, pointing at the closed door with an uncertain gesture.