Chapter 86

An hour of comfortable silence stretched, during which Aurora briefly dozed off, and Tristan contemplated his life while gently caressing her hand.

"Whose room is this?" Aurora asked, noticing the miniature cartoon character figurines on top of a dresser on the other side.

"Mine. Well, it used to be mine," Tristan replied.

"Really?" Aurora got up, full of curiosity, and went to the other side of the room to examine closely.

"My father said he didn't touch anything after I left, except for the clothes I left behind," explained Tristan.

"What happened to them?"

"They were donated. Besides that, everything's the same."

Aurora noticed that the miniatures were the only decoration with a personal touch. There was nothing else. No photos or CDs of any bands he used to like. Since childhood, he had a rather minimalist taste.

"Your father must have missed you," she commented, hearing his incredulous grunt. "Seriously. After all, you're still his son. I can't think of any other reason he wouldn