Larissa wore a pale pink dress, her hair was up, and her gaze was full of tenderness. My father seemed nervous but happy, like a young man in love for the first time.
That night, while everyone was helping to clean up, my sister joked:
—Dad, try not to make too much noise tonight, okay? The walls are thin!
He laughed and replied:
—Mind your own business, you insolent little girl.
Then he took Larissa's hand and went into the master bedroom, the same one he had shared with my mother for over thirty years. We had suggested redecorating it before the wedding, but he had refused.
"Leaving it as it is gives me peace," he said.
Around midnight, a noise woke me. I thought it was the wind… or maybe a cat in the garden. But suddenly—a scream. High-pitched. Terrifying.
