The Devil's Redemption | ✓

|74| The annotations

"Don't worry, I won't be staying here. Not today at least. I would leave in a little while. I just felt the need of seeing how the house was holding up." I say looking back at him before taking one last look around the office and leaving towards Matteo's favorite part of the house.

The library.

Opening the big white door I take a look inside. Going from one corner to another following the infinite lines of shelves. Everything is the exact same as he left it.

I will never forget the day we discussed what we would make out of this room. It had always been a library but when father left and the house was ours I thought we would do something different. I voted for a cinema but Matteo said that would be sacrilege, that a room like this could only be a library. And of course, I said yes because I was never good at telling him no.

He got the original bookshelves restored, painted every little corner of the room, and put a lot of different lamps accompanied by seating areas. The look on his face when everything was finally complete made all the time this took worth it. Since that day if I ever needed to find him and his office was empty I knew he would be here.

Every bookshelf is perfectly categorized by the type of books it contains, and he has everything, from psychology to classics. Or at least all except one, the one in the corner where he used to put his favorite books. Those that according to him made his "perspective of the world change". He used to recommend me at least once every week meaning that the shelf is pretty much full.

Running my hand around the different beautiful hardcovers I stop on the last one I remember he recommended me, "Cien años de soledad" and take it out. As usual, the book is annotated, you knew it was one of Matteo's favorites when the pages were filled with Post-it notes, scribbles, and words expressing his thoughts. He wrote everything down, it had always been easier for him to communicate like that. Since he was a kid. (One hundred years of solitude.)

As I keep turning the pages I find one that's blank except for one underlined quote, "Siempre queda algo para amar", he didn't write anything about it or analyzed the words as he always used to do, this time he simply marked it with a fine line in pencil. That's apparently all he had to say about it and now that I read it I wish he had written something else, something so I could also know his thoughts. That was always my favorite thing about reading the books he recommended, getting to see a little part of his magnificent mind... that same mind that is now in a hospital bed because of me. (There's always something left to love.)

With the book still in my hand and walking to one of the sofas I take my phone out of my pocket and send a text to Nathan telling him about Matteo's situation and to figure out who attacked him. It can't be a coincidence. It had to be father too, he is going after everyone I care about, one by one. As Rick said he is trying to break me down and the worst part? He is winning.

Setting the book down I carefully kneel on my right leg and put my hand against the cabinet of the little table beside the sofa.

"Come on Matteo, there has to be something here," I whisper pulling the door open. "Bingo."

Inside it and accompanied by two single crystal glasses is a bottle of his favourite whiskey. Reading often implied drinking too but most of the time it was just one glass. This was his "thinking alcohol" not the forgetting one. We used to share it too, I was never a big fan but sometimes a good drink was all I needed. This is one of those times.

Ignoring the glasses I sit down on the floor, rest myself against the sofa, and take the book back before opening the bottle with one hand and taking a big long sip. The strength of the liquor burns down my throat in the most delicious yet also disgusting type of way. God, if he saw me right now he would probably punch me. I'm such a hypocrite.