Adrian sat on the edge of his bed with the small book open in his hands.
The room was quiet except for the soft ticking of the clock on the wall.
He had been staring at the first page for almost five minutes.
Not because the words were too difficult.
But because he was afraid of doing it wrong.
Slowly, he ran his finger under the first line.
"The… boy… and… the dog."
He paused.
His lips pressed together.
"…Again," he murmured to himself.
"The boy and the dog."
The sentence came out smoother the second time.
Adrian blinked.
Then a tiny smile appeared on his face.
He turned the page.
Footsteps passed in the hallway outside his room, but Adrian barely noticed.
He was too focused on the story.
The boy in the book had a dog that followed him everywhere.
The boy fed the dog.
Played with the dog.
Ran through fields with the dog.
Adrian paused again.
"…Run," he whispered.
He glanced down at his legs.
They were still thin.
Weak from years of hard work and little food.
He wondered if he could ever run like that.
A soft knock interrupted his thoughts.
Adrian quickly looked up.
"…Come in."
The door opened slowly.
Isabella stepped inside.
She smiled gently when she saw him holding the book.
"Reading?"
Adrian nodded.
"…My teacher gave it to me."
Isabella walked closer.
"Can I hear?"
Adrian hesitated.
His fingers tightened slightly around the pages.
"…I read slowly."
"That's okay."
Adrian looked down again.
He cleared his throat quietly before starting.
"The boy… walks… to the river."
He stumbled on the next word.
"…with… with…"
"His?" Isabella offered softly.
Adrian nodded quickly.
"Yes."
He tried again.
"The boy walks to the river with his dog."
Isabella didn't interrupt.
She simply listened.
Page by page.
Sentence by sentence.
Adrian's voice grew steadier as he continued.
It was still slow.
But he didn't stop.
When he finally reached the end of the story, he looked up nervously.
"…Was it bad?"
Isabella shook her head immediately.
"No."
Her voice was warm.
"It was wonderful."
Adrian blinked.
"…Really?"
"Yes."
Adrian stared down at the book again.
"…It's strange."
"What is?"
"Learning things."
Isabella sat beside him on the bed.
"What do you mean?"
Adrian thought for a moment before answering.
"…It feels like I'm catching up to something."
Isabella's expression softened.
"You are."
Adrian nodded slowly.
"…There are a lot of things I don't know."
"That's okay."
Adrian hesitated.
Then he quietly asked,
"…Did I use to read when I was little?"
Isabella smiled faintly.
"You liked picture books."
Adrian tried to imagine it.
"…Did someone read to me?"
Her smile grew softer.
"Every night."
Adrian's chest tightened slightly.
"…I don't remember."
"That's alright."
Adrian looked down at the book again.
"…Maybe I will one day."
Isabella placed a gentle hand on his shoulder.
"Memories come back when they're ready."
Adrian nodded.
But before he could say anything else—
Another knock sounded at the door.
Marco stepped inside.
"Dinner's ready."
Adrian quickly closed the book.
"…Okay."
The dining room felt a little less intimidating tonight.
Adrian sat between Alessio and Nico.
Plates of food covered the table.
Adrian still felt amazed every time he saw so much food.
It was something his mind hadn't fully adjusted to yet.
Dante noticed him staring.
"You can eat, you know."
Adrian flushed slightly.
"…I know."
He reached for the bread.
Halfway through the meal, Nico leaned back in his chair.
"So."
Adrian looked up.
"How's the homework?"
Adrian swallowed a bite.
"…Reading."
"That's it?"
"For now."
Dante grinned.
"Give it a few weeks."
Adrian frowned slightly.
"…Why?"
"You'll have math."
Adrian's shoulders dropped.
"…Oh."
The table chuckled softly.
But it wasn't cruel.
Just light.
Adrian found himself smiling too.
After dinner, the family slowly drifted into the living room.
The large fireplace filled the space with warmth.
Adrian sat quietly on one of the couches.
The book rested on his lap.
Alessio noticed.
"You're bringing that everywhere."
Adrian shrugged.
"…I like it."
"What happens in the story?"
"The boy and the dog go to the river."
"That's it?"
Adrian nodded.
"…But it's still nice."
Alessio smiled.
"Fair enough."
Across the room, Lorenzo stood near the window speaking quietly with Marco.
Adrian didn't hear the conversation.
But Marco's expression looked serious.
Lorenzo glanced briefly toward Adrian.
Then he returned to the discussion.
A few minutes later, Marco walked over.
"Adrian."
Adrian looked up immediately.
"Yes?"
"There's someone who wants to meet you tomorrow."
Adrian blinked.
"…Who?"
"Your therapist."
Adrian froze slightly.
"…Oh."
Alessio noticed the tension in his shoulders.
"It's not scary," he said quietly.
Adrian nodded.
"…Just talking."
Marco confirmed.
"Exactly."
Adrian stared down at the book again.
"…Okay."
But inside his chest, a small knot of nervousness tightened.
Talking about the past…
That felt much harder than learning to read.
Later that night, Adrian lay in bed again.
The room was dark.
The book rested on the table beside him.
His mind replayed the dream from the night before.
That voice.
The one calling his name.
He tried to picture the face again.
But it remained blurry.
Just out of reach.
Adrian turned onto his side.
"…Who were you?"
He whispered the question softly.
No answer came.
Only silence.
Eventually, his eyes grew heavy.
Sleep slowly pulled him under again.
And once more…
The dream returned.
This time the memory felt closer.
Clearer.
A younger Adrian stood in a large garden.
The sun was bright.
Children were laughing nearby.
Then someone called his name.
"Adrian!"
He turned quickly.
And just as the face began to come into focus—
Adrian woke up again.
His breathing uneven.
His heart racing.
But this time…
One detail stayed with him.
The voice.
It sounded young.
Not an adult.
Not angry.
Not cruel.
It sounded like…
Another child.
And for the first time since the dreams started…
Adrian wondered something new.
Had someone been looking for him all those years?