Adrian didn't tell anyone about the dream.
Not at breakfast.
Not in the car.
Not even when Alessio asked him how he slept.
"…Fine," Adrian said quietly, staring out the window.
It wasn't a lie.
But it wasn't the truth either.
Because something about the dream had changed.
It didn't feel like a random memory anymore.
It felt like something trying to come back.
And Adrian wasn't sure if he was ready for that.
—
The therapist's office was not what Adrian expected.
It wasn't cold.
It wasn't empty.
It looked… normal.
A soft couch sat near the window. A small table held a box of tissues. Books lined the shelves, and a quiet lamp gave the room a warm glow.
Adrian stood near the door, unsure if he should step inside.
Marco rested a hand lightly on his shoulder.
"You'll be fine."
Adrian nodded.
"…Okay."
Marco gave him a small look before leaving.
The door closed behind him.
Adrian was alone.
"Well," a gentle voice said.
Adrian looked up.
The therapist sat in a chair across the room.
Not behind a desk.
Not far away.
Just… there.
"You must be Adrian."
Adrian nodded slowly.
"Yes."
The therapist smiled.
"I'm Dr. Laurent."
Adrian stayed near the door for a moment longer before walking inside.
His steps were quiet.
Careful.
Like he was testing the ground beneath him.
"You can sit anywhere you like," Dr. Laurent said.
Adrian chose the edge of the couch.
Not too close.
Not too relaxed.
Dr. Laurent didn't say anything for a moment.
He simply waited.
Adrian fidgeted with his fingers.
"…Am I supposed to talk?"
Dr. Laurent smiled slightly.
"Only if you want to."
Adrian blinked.
"…That's it?"
"That's it."
Silence filled the room.
Adrian glanced at the door.
Then at the window.
Then back at his hands.
"…What if I don't know what to say?"
"That happens a lot."
Adrian nodded slowly.
"…Okay."
Another pause.
Then, without planning to, Adrian spoke again.
"I had a dream."
Dr. Laurent didn't interrupt.
Adrian continued quietly.
"Someone was calling my name."
"Do you remember who?"
Adrian shook his head.
"No."
Dr. Laurent leaned back slightly.
"How did it make you feel?"
Adrian hesitated.
"…Confused."
"Anything else?"
Adrian thought for a moment.
"…Sad."
The word came out softer than he expected.
Dr. Laurent nodded.
"That's important."
Adrian frowned slightly.
"Why?"
"Because feelings often lead us to memories."
Adrian looked down again.
"…I don't remember much."
"That's okay."
Adrian's fingers tightened together.
"…I want to."
Dr. Laurent studied him carefully.
"Why?"
Adrian didn't answer immediately.
Then he said,
"…Because I feel like I lost something."
The room grew quiet again.
Dr. Laurent didn't rush him.
Adrian swallowed.
"…Everyone here knows me."
"Yes."
"But I don't know them."
Dr. Laurent nodded slowly.
"That can be very difficult."
Adrian's voice dropped.
"…They say they love me."
"And how does that make you feel?"
Adrian hesitated.
"…I don't know."
Dr. Laurent waited.
"…I think I want to believe them."
The words felt heavy.
Like something Adrian had been holding in for a long time.
"But?"
Adrian's shoulders tensed slightly.
"…I don't know how."
Dr. Laurent nodded.
"That makes sense."
Adrian looked up.
"…It does?"
"Yes."
Adrian blinked.
"…Why?"
"Because trust isn't something you can force," Dr. Laurent said gently. "It takes time."
Adrian leaned back slightly.
"…Everything takes time."
"Yes."
Adrian exhaled slowly.
"…I'm not very patient."
Dr. Laurent smiled faintly.
"You don't have to be."
Adrian almost smiled.
Almost.
After a few more minutes of quiet conversation, the session ended.
"You did well today," Dr. Laurent said.
Adrian stood slowly.
"…I didn't say much."
"You said enough."
Adrian nodded.
"…Okay."
When he stepped outside, Marco was waiting.
"How was it?"
Adrian thought for a moment.
"…Not bad."
Marco nodded once.
"That's good."
—
School felt easier after that.
Not because anything had changed.
But because Adrian felt lighter.
Like he had let something out.
Even if it was small.
In class, he focused on reading again.
The teacher gave him another short passage.
This one was longer.
Harder.
Adrian stared at it.
Then slowly began.
Word by word.
Line by line.
He stumbled.
Paused.
Corrected himself.
But he didn't stop.
When he finished, he looked up.
The teacher smiled.
"Well done."
Adrian nodded quietly.
This time, the praise didn't make him look away.
At lunch, Alessio slid into the seat across from him.
"So?"
Adrian looked up.
"The therapy thing."
Adrian hesitated.
"…It was okay."
"That's good."
Adrian nodded.
"I talked about the dream."
Alessio leaned forward slightly.
"Yeah?"
Adrian lowered his voice.
"…I think it was a child."
Alessio's expression shifted.
"…What do you mean?"
"The voice."
Adrian's fingers tightened slightly.
"It sounded like someone my age."
Alessio didn't say anything for a moment.
Then he asked carefully,
"Did it sound like me?"
Adrian blinked.
"…No."
The answer came quickly.
Too quickly.
Alessio noticed.
But he didn't push.
"…Okay."
Adrian looked down at his tray.
"…I think they knew me."
The words came out quietly.
Like a secret.
Alessio leaned back slightly.
"…You probably had friends."
Adrian shook his head.
"…No."
Alessio frowned.
"What do you mean?"
Adrian's voice dropped.
"…I don't think it was a friend."
A small silence followed.
Alessio studied him carefully.
"Then who?"
Adrian looked up slowly.
His eyes uncertain.
"…I don't know."
But something in his chest told him—
The answer mattered.
More than he understood yet.
—
That night, Adrian sat by the window in his room.
The small book rested on his lap.
But he wasn't reading.
He was thinking.
About the dream.
About the voice.
About the feeling it left behind.
"…Who are you?" he whispered softly.
The question lingered in the quiet room.
Unanswered.
But not forgotten.
And somewhere deep in his mind…
A memory was getting closer.
Waiting.
For the moment Adrian was finally ready to see it.