“My uncle once asked me, ‘Are you a virgin?’ when I was already 27 years old. From that moment, I started to be afraid of him. And a few days later, when he took me to a hotel outside the city, he leaned close to my ear by the pool and whispered, ‘After the pool, come up to my room…’”

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But I couldn’t forget the question.

From that day on, every time he called me, I felt uneasy.

Then, a few days later, Richard called me on Saturday morning.

“Emily, are you free today?”

“I think so.”

“Come with me. I booked a place outside the city. There’s a pool there too. We could relax for a while.”

I hesitated.

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We had never gone somewhere like that alone before.

After my father died, Richard often tried to get me out of the house because he knew how withdrawn I had become.

So eventually, I agreed.

The hotel was about an hour outside the city.

It was an old but elegant building with a large garden, an outdoor swimming pool, and long, quiet hallways.

At first, everything seemed completely normal.

We sat beside the pool, had lunch, and talked about work.

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