Husband number eleven was different.
His name was Adrian.
He was quiet like Daniel, but his eyes were sharper. When he looked at me, I felt like he was searching inside my memories.
On the second day of our marriage, he said something strange.
"You already have ten keys, right?"
My heart stopped.
I had never told anyone about the keys.
"How do you know that?" I asked slowly.
He smiled a little.
"Because this is not the first time we meet."
I stepped back. "What do you mean?"
He walked closer and looked directly into my eyes.
"In every life, you marry us.
In every life, we disappear.
In every life, you collect the keys.
And in every life… you forget everything."
I felt the room spinning.
"That's impossible," I whispered.
He shook his head. "No. The impossible is that you still don't remember me."
"Who are you?" I asked.
He looked sad when I said that.
"I am the one who always stays the longest," he said.
"But I always disappear before you remember the truth."
I grabbed his arm. "What truth?"
He leaned closer and whispered:
"You are not marrying a thousand men.
You are trying to find one man… in a thousand lives."
Before I could ask anything else, there was a loud noise outside, like something fell.
I turned my head for one second.
Just one second.
When I looked back at Adrian…
He was gone.
And on the table behind him, there was a black key.
Number 11.
But this time, there was something else next to the key.
A small piece of paper.
On it, three words:
"Find the first door...