Before he was fourteen, Carlos always thought that his parents were the most loving couple in the world.
His father, Evan Palmer, was elegant and composed, while his mother, Mrs. Carter, was gentle and dignified; in the eyes of outsiders, they were a rare model couple in the aristocratic circle.
But in the summer of his fourteenth year, Carlos inadvertently discovered a glaring red mark on his father's shirt collar—a lipstick stain that didn't belong to his mother.
At that moment, he froze in place, his fingertips slightly trembling, his mind buzzing loudly.
Soon, Evan Palmer threw that shirt into the fireplace. The flames roared, the fabric twisted and charred in the high heat, eventually turning to ashes.
Carlos's heart sank.
After that, Carlos started skipping school.
He wore a baseball cap and hid in the café opposite the fancy restaurant that his father frequented, fixating on the view through the glass window.
