How it Started Part III

"Memories are cherished by the unknown, but hunt the ones they love" Chloe Barbaro

Escorting me out of my room, we made our way downstairs. With each trip I made inside this house, it looked prettier.

We made our way to the dining room. I noticed Mr. Barbaro seated at the table.

Strangely, the man was sitting alone.

Seeing me, a smile slowly crept on his lips, urging me to smile back. His dark and authoritative manner seemed to have once again disappeared.

Taking a seat, I placed my gaze on my lap due to nervosity.

"As expected, it suits you," spoke Mr. Barbaro, breaking the silence.

Confusion arose from my face, looking up to meet the gaze of my adoptive father. A small chuckle left his mouth a the sight of my expression.

"it belonged to your mother," he continued.

"It's pretty," I replied, my mouth leaving no trail of emotion.

My answer seemed to have surprised the man sitting across from me. Maybe he was expecting me to cry or even beg him for an answer.

"She looked just like you," he added as the maids entered with our food. "I remember she would always smile, even in the darkest time."

"She sounds optimistic," I said, my eyes on the food.

A beautiful plate of steak, mashed potatoes, and vegetables lay untouched. The steak looked juicy, and the mashed potatoes looked smooth.

Swallowing my saliva, the only thing on my mind was food. At that moment, nothing mattered, whether it was my mother or myself. The one thing I knew I wanted to learn more about was my plate.

"Shall we eat," asked Mr. Barbaro.

Without waiting for a second, I grasped my utensils and started my meal. It tasted like heaven, and for the first time in my life, I could eat something of my own. A sudden tear ran down my face, which I quickly ignored.

"You must miss the orphanage," asked Mr.Barbaro.

"A little," I replied, taking a bite of my food. "The orphanage was the only place I knew."

Once more, the moment turned warm. I could feel a connection with this man ever since I saw him. A feeling I couldn't rub off.

"You'll get used to it," he replied, his tone turning cold as he left the diner table.

Taking a break from my food, I absorbed his every moment. He seemed hurt by my words, and somehow that broke me.

My appetite was no more after our conversation, and guilt overtook me.

Leaning back in my chair, I turned my gaze to the ceiling, zoning out. The sound of clattering brought me back to reality.

Standing up from my chair, I gloomily walked back to my room.